The Reason I didn't update
by MsLanna
Summary: Shameless Star Wars self-insert. Rated M for occasional language. The longest excuse for not updating ever. Timeframe is TTT and after, Imperial side; Characters appearing so far: Thrawn, Rukh, Jaing, Luke, Han, Bardan. Currently: I herewith declare the Battle for Byss open
1. 001

One

Well, I am sure some of you think the reason was that I had stress at work, special exhibition and all that blah. Well, forget about it. That's just cover up. The true reason is horrible, hilarious and – ultimately - sad.

It all started with elevators. Those tricky ones you have to wait ages for one to arrive, and then the doors open and you get run over by a crowd that can't wait to escape the tight confines. Brilliantly lit, fortunately without any of that scarring music. I was just going to the third floor, checking on something for the exhibition. I didn't have much time since the shop was left without supervision while I was gone, but the hall had looked empty when I left and it was not as if this could wait.

Storming out of the elevator, I almost knocked a guy over, but he should have known better. You're letting people out first. The third floor had changed rather dramatically. No, I'm not talking of the exhibition things, I meant the huge windows which suddenly showed stars behind them and the trenches running through it at both sides of the walkway –

I knew this set up. By heart. But it was not our third floor. Except, if the exhibition about numbers had been cancelled last minute and substituted by a really life like imitation of a Star Destroyer.

It sure hadn't.

An elderly man in one of those crisp Imperial uniforms turned to look at me. His expression was incredulous, which I could understand. My current work outfit included a blue Tee with the cute drawing of a dormouse on it. It looked stupefied but happy, the dormouse I mean, where as the Imperial seemed to be more the stupefied but angry version.

I turned back and made a lunge for the elevator. Even made it, but as it is with elevators, you have to wait for ages until they arrive. The guards were a lot faster. All in those tasty uniforms, I could have drooled. Only that my shop was without supervision and I was high on some kind of drug, hallucinating good looking Imperial officers and guards and, I squinted, probably Captain Pellaeon. I was tempted to stay and see if my mind came up with a yummy kind of Thrawn.

It didn't. Instead, it came up with a good imitation of pain, as hands like clamps closed around my arms. Those guards did look hot in those tight tunics. They were not soft though. Each took hold of one of my arms, I was turned around unceremoniously and dragged towards the Captain. Hot damn! That _was_ Pellaeon. Maybe I'd get to see some Thrawn before somebody found me. Or the whole building exploded. What happened to you when you inhaled too much gas? I didn't know. Something like this, I guessed.

I offered no resistance, which would have been futile anyway. My feet were barely touching ground and my arms were almost numb. But Pellaeon was a sight: short greyish hair, the obligatory uniform, which always looked as if you had a bunny stashed away in your pockets, but he could wear that. And still look good. I decided to write a fic about it when back.

"Who are you?" that RP accent made shivers go up and down my spine. This was much better than watching the scene in the Imperial Senate on permanent-repeat. I must have been staring, probably with my mouth open. But I didn't get such trips often.

"Do you hear me?" he sounded annoyed.

"Yes, sir," I answered brightly. "And I am-" I hesitated. Would I give my real name, or could I just assume my official Star Wars alias? I cocked my head slightly. Would it be worth it? How long until all this faded into numbers and the Fibonacci pineapple? _I could get away calling myself Lucretia,_ I mused. _Brunhilde, Svetlana,_ I could have much fun. Provided house security didn't show up. I decided on a compromise.

"Mellanna Morrison." The latter was my tendency to alliterate and probably not a streak of genius. Oh well, I wouldn't be stuck with it for too long. And once I got to my senses again, I could still think up something better. Just in case I went tripping like this again.

"And what are you doing here?" Pellaeon's voice could have cut steel. His eyes, too.

"Being lost?" I volunteered.

I saw his glance flick from me to a black clad man in the trench. Mr. Black shook his head slightly, and the captain's eyes bored into me again. The hallucination sucked. I should have been mentioned somewhere.

"Caring to tell the truth?"

"No."

It was the wrong answer. The whole bridge seemed to hold its breath. But Pellaeon didn't explode. He just nodded.

"Into the brig," he ordered the guards. "I will inform the Grand Admiral of this – incident."

I was dragged off before I could mumble disagreement and moped because now I was dragged back to the elevators and by the time I reached the ground floor, the pretty Imperials would have morphed into the usual house personnel again. I moped. I moped obviously, until the elevator doors closed. Then I slumped. But when the doors opened again, I had not arrived at the ground floor. Oh no.

And that is the reason I didn't update.


	2. 002

Two

I have only seen Imperial detention in ANH so far. This was - about it. Smaller, and more sterile when you were actually in it than it seemed in the movie. And anyway, this was just a Star Destroyer and not the Death Star. The two guards dragged me along, and communications here seemed to work. The officer on duty was already informed of my arrival, which made it rather unlikely that this was my work place. Communication there tended to be one sided. And take years to get anywhere.

The cell itself was small, and grey. I love this Imperial grey. The bed was hard, I got no blankets and I think I'll have to ask somebody where to find the loo, too. I can wait a little though. It's not as if I drank much tea today. I sat down on the bunk, kicked of my shoes and then pressed my ear to the durasteel. It was actually vibrating very softly, humming and thrumming in my bones. Such a delight. I like it when my hallucinations turn out the way I want them.

Well, almost. I was still sitting in detention. Probably the emergency room in the cellar, I just wondered why my brain kept insisting I was far, far away. Maybe it was, but there was no way my body could follow. Except if I could travel through time and space. In which case a closed door should be no problem at all. I got up and walked into the door. Not a wall. What if there was but space behind it?

The metal gave a nice solid bang and my head swam from the impact. Determination was probably not going to get me anywhere. I would end up in a nuthouse. And who would take care of my job? Though, maybe it wasn't that bad - if I really believed to be in Star Wars - _that _had possibilities. Only, that I would have to get on without my family and friends. A huge drawback. No, I'd rather get my shrink and be out, even if I never got to see my rendition of Thrawn. _Too bad._ I was sure my inner fangirl would have done a gorgeous job on him.

After a while, I got bored. Usually, I can use my imagination to tide me over boring situations like this, but I was obviously already using too much of it. That shrink took quite some time. I began to seriously worry about the shop. I tried to focus myself, and remember who I was, and more importantly, where. Sitting down on the bed cross-legged I closed my eyes and began to breathe slowly.

I am not good at it. I tend to breath slower than is good for me and end up gasping. I tried nevertheless. Calming myself was important. Getting home was important. There was Hot Chicken Ajam for dinner tonight... . I managed to breathe in a way that did not suffocate me. I tried to clear my mind, which was not easy with Chicken Ajam and Thrawn occupying large portions of it. Still, I did my best to visualize the small room with its couch, the medication cabinet, the small sink and dust bin in one corner.

I wished I had been down there more often. But I had seen it only once so far, when a stupid, ToS-violating tick had decided to feast on me. The tick was dead now, but I was afraid, I remembered it more clearly than the room. I sighed. When I saw the room as well as I could remember, I tried to merge that picture with the one my eyes insisted on seeing. It was difficult, because my brain was inclined to believe my eyes instead of me.

I was getting a real bad headache on top of that, when the door opened again. A man stepped in, probably a doctor, but my eyes kept telling me he was Imperial. At least he had some medical equipment with him.

"I am sorry, I don't recognise you," I said, "but I seem to be hallucinating badly." I rolled up my sleeve and let him draw some blood. I hated needles, but in case of need, I pulled myself together.

"Did anybody else get hurt?" I asked. He was already on the leave again.

"By what?" he asked, cautiously.

"I don't know." I shrugged. " But whatever that was, I inhaled on the third floor, it must be pretty bad. I mean, look at me, I think I am aboard the Chimera." I tried to laugh, but the sound dropped dead when his expression grew cold.

"You are."

I stared. I stared some more, then shook my head. "Sorry, but I seem to have hearlucinations, too, now." I whacked my ears. "I think I need some medication. And if somebody could inform my family and-"

He had just turned and left. Some people. I hoped he was just getting somebody more competent. I looked around. Should have asked him how to find the loo. He did not come back immediately, and neither did somebody else. I sat down again, moping, and wondering why my trip did not include the Grand Admiral. It seemed that Murphy's law had me.

And had me and had me and had me. Man, it was so boring sitting there waiting. I just hoped somebody had had the idea to alert my colleague and also my family. Since there was nothing else to do, then, I laid down and tried to sleep.

And that is the reason why I didn't update here.


	3. 003

Three

I managed to fall asleep but not for long. I had no blanket and no cushion and the room temperature was suboptimal. I woke up feeling cold all over and not rested the least. Besides my back hurt from the hard bunk and I was still grumpy because - well - I still was in the cell, not in the medic's room. Rubbing my head, I sat up, but nothing happened. At least, the headache seemed gone. I wished I could follow it to warmer regions. My stomach took the general bad mood as a reason to rumble and demand food.

Resigned, I got up and knocked at the door. I did not expect much to happen, and it did just that. Just great.

"Hello?" I called. "Can I get something to eat, please?" I could not think that going hungry would improve my precarious state any. "And a psychiatrist would be nice, too." I did not want to be bonkers for the rest of my life, and as far as I knew, immediate therapy was the way to go. If my sister's doctor had reacted right, she would not…

The door opened and a man came in carrying a tablet. I think it was food on it, but I identified it because it lay on a plate. And there was a glass with some liquid in it. And an injector.

"Finally," I grumbled.

The Imperial touched a place on the wall, and a small table extended. Now that was interesting. I wondered if I would manage to find the toilet, by randomly touching every available inch of wall. I would find out later. Rolling up my sleeve I sat down.

"I hope the shot doesn't go into the butt?"

It would have been nice to say he looked a little shocked, but no. True to Imperial form, I might have said nothing at all. With a shrug I held out my arm, trying to look away, while keeping an eye on the needle. God, how I hate needles! Injections are an absolute horror. And so is donating blood. I clenched my teeth and steeled myself for the pain. That is the worst part, waiting for the needle to break the skin. The nurses at my blood donation place already know that and humour my quirk. There is even one which handles the needle so skilfully, I hardly feel anything.

I waited. And waited some more. And then peered around to see the man was already backing to the door. I looked at my arm which showed no visual marks and not even a drop of blood. Now that was impressive. Since it was too late for thanks, I began to examine the food. It looked a bit like porridge or milk rice and tasted - salty. In a nice way salty; and as if somebody knew how to use glutamate. Probably the easiest way to feed people that you need alive, but don't want to pamper. I hoped it was not some kind of diet. There are approaches that try to heal the whole person, including the eating habits.

The drink was not even that interesting, it was sweet in a very _un_sweet way, and just tasted like a drink that tasted of nothing. I drank it all, though. More motivation to find the loo. After I finished, I began to pat the wall more or less systematically. It did feel silly, but so what? And I was successful. At the foot of the bed, a panel swung out, granting a scarce protection from sudden visitors. And it looked like something I had seen before, so I was sure I could handle it. _Could have been worse,_ I thought, remembering **AlexisWingstar**'s problems with the sonic shower.

I sat down on the bed again, putting the tray beside me and trying to get the table to retract. It didn't. I tried soft touches, and even hitting the wall aimlessly, then I wondered if the features of the room were coded to certain people.

I got bored.

Again.

The spoon and plate were not very amusing, even when I took the cup, too, and improvised a set of drums. I was tempted to start singing. I was sure somebody would come to stop me. But before I could bring myself to torture the poor Imperials like that, one of them returned.

Have I already mentioned how I love those olive uniforms? Well, I'll do so again. And those guys keep in shape.

"Are you the shrink?" I asked.

"Follow me," was the only answer. Too short, if you ask me. There's no such thing as too much Received Pronunciation.

I got up and tried to follow. But there must have been something in my drink. Or in that injection. I felt really off key. Very much like on the one and only LSD trip I ever had. Meaning that everything was exactly the same as before, only completely different. And that the air itself felt like a woolly blanket that you curl up in. I was still waiting for that effect, though. Lacking any blanket in this room, I would happily take a hallucinated one. Even if I was not sure what happened if you hallucinated within a hallucination.

Anyway, I stood up, steadying myself on the completely unmoving floor. Following was easy, too, because the ground was bulging in all directions. It anticipated the wobbling of my legs perfectly. The boots of the Imperial rang on the steel ground, and I decided to join the Empire, should I get back home. I began hearing voices, but fortunately, found out that I was just remembering quotes from my home-boards.

_The Empire is all_ - Blindman

_Close your eyes and think of the Empire_ - GrandAdmiralV

I tried to close my eyes, but immediately bumped into the Imperial. No, wait, I think it was the wall, the Imp just steadied me. Man, his aftershave was a blast.

Not that he seemed impressed or anything. He shoved me into a small room, all grey walls, no windows. I bet rooms with windows are reserved for the really important people, like on cruise ships. There was only a table and two chairs in the room. I think it was time for therapy. _Finally_. I sat down and waited for the doctor.

And this is the reason, I didn't update here.

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**Note:** All usernames are from a different board. If you are really interested, GrandAdmrialV is known as ChristineX here, Blindman is gasp Blind Man, and I have not found AlexisWingstar yet.


	4. 004

Four 

After I while I became impatient. I mean, I was still a patient, or hoping to be, but my patience ran out. Maybe theirs had, too, and they now had to do with the ones left over, like stretching the hours they treated them.

So where was that shrink? I began to pace the room. And behind which wall was the observation room? I began to knock and listen for differences in the sound. That was the right move. I had just moved to the second wall, when the door opened and an Imperial in black came in. And here I was, believing doctors wore white.

I sat down again, rather nervous. Thus was my first session with a psychiatrist and I had no idea how it would go. He got a pad out, and placed something on the table that looked like Bones saltshaker-turned-tricorder. I watched him, because he was the only thing moving in the room.

"Let us start with the preliminaries," he finally said. "Your full name, habitation, and current employment."

I stared at him. "Erm. Does that mean nobody informed anybody about my state yet? My family -"

"Just answer the questions."

"Mellanna Morrison," I repeated. If they were too stupid to ask the girls at the information desk my name, or even too stupid to look it up on my ID - bad luck for them.

"The truth."

"If that's not the truth, you tell me," I snapped. "My ID is still in the shop, so go and get it, if you don't believe me."

He made some notes. "Habitation and employment?"

"Bielefeld and saleswomen."

"Bielefed being on which planet?"

"Earth?" this was getting silly. "Listen. I can understand you want to help me but, I think, my imagination is -"

"Your imagination is currently neutralised," he said in a pretty monotone.

"I don't think so," I objected. "I still believe I am in Star Wars."

"In what?" He seemed interested.

"Don't tell my you never heard of Star Wars, " I gasped. "You know, those movies, Darth Vader, huge guy with a black -"

"I know who Darth Vader was," he said flatly.

"Good, that's Star Wars for you then." Now it would become difficult. How many people on earth knew about EU? "And I believe I am in the part that is only in books."

He did not answer. I gave him some time. Still, he did not answer.

"I will try to explain," I finally said. "After the movies were finished, there were many books, continuing the story."

"You think you are in a story."

"Yes!" I almost jumped up. "I was in the third storey, and I don't know what was leaking there, but now, all I see is Star Wars." I rubbed my forehead.

"There is no third storey," he said. "Nothing you say can be verified the least. Is there anything else you want to lie about?"

"This is ridiculous."

"So being in Imperial detention is ridiculous?"

"No, _believing_ to be in Imperial detention, that is ridiculous." I stopped rubbing my forehead. "I mean, I like Imperials, that accent, those nifty uniforms, I like Vader, and I am pretty fond of your Grand Admiral, but -" I didn't know how to finish. How did you tell somebody he was completely fictional?

"I don't think the Admiral shares that feeling," the Imperial said.

"Oh, I am sure he doesn't," I agreed. "But none of that matter because - well - it's just fiction. Nothing you say or do has any effect on reality."

Considering that I just told him he was just a figment of my imagination, he took it rather well. He seemed to cough it a little, but caught himself quickly.

"So, how does the story end?"

"When? I mean, there's so much," I shrugged helplessly. "This campaign ends with the Grand Admiral's demise, then there's Daala, and somebody I forgot, a lot of bigger and smaller crisises, and in the end, the Vong invasion and much after the Fel Empire."

"I have never heard of any of those before."

"Well, ask your Grand Admiral, I am sure some of those names ring a bell with him." I decided to get to see Thrawn. Full stop. My dream, my rules. "Maybe he'd be more interested in news about the Vagaari, though. Or drop the names Thrass and Car'das." I barely managed _not_ to bat my eyes.

"You are moving on thin ice," he warned me. "Grand Admiral Thrawn is not a man to mess with."

_Indeed not? How shocking. Tell me about it_.

I don't know how I managed to keep a straight face. Maybe, I didn't. "In which case you'd still have to convince me that this is real," I just replied.

He seemed to consider that for a moment. "Tell me about 'reality' then," he finally said. "What do you think, is real?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Now that was just stupidity from his side. How could he ask me to talk about myself and my life exclusively? Did he not know a woman wouldn't find the end of such a tale? His bad luck, because I would take him up on his word. I began to tell him about my life, everything, as he requested, which took forever.

And that is the reason, I didn't update here.

* * *

**Note**: Sorry, for not updating last week. Jedi Con 2008 had me in it's clutches. x.X


	5. 005

Five

I told him about my job, my family, my new flat, and my pets. Then I moved on to recent history, my plans for the future, leaving out the Jedi Con just in case, about reading, writing and watching TV. He did not interrupt me once. My mouth became dry, and I began to run out of interesting things to tell about me. That was an all time first, it was amazing.

"Could I get some water, please?" I finally asked.

"That won't be necessary," he replied. "We will be through soon. If you would now get to the less agreeable points like your trust issues."

"Trust issues?"

I stared. It was not that I didn't have any, I am not that naïve, but I wondered why he should be interested in that, and in which part. I tend to trust everybody until they disappoint me, while at the same time, I am pretty sure my natural trust was shattered years ago. It was not making much sense, even to me. Add my fear of loss and no matter how easy I tried to be, I always ended up being very complicated still.

But then, this was therapy, right? It was supposed to help me, maybe trust issues had something to do with that? I didn't see that, but then, he was the expert. I would have to trust him, wouldn't I? Oh, the issues!

"Why would that be of any importance?" I wanted to know.

"We are assessing your mental state as well as possible problems that might occur in the future. Your usefulness, potential dangerousness and the further procedure."

"And what are you going to do about my hallucinations? Does it not matter the least that I believe to be stuck in a story?"

"Maybe you should take into consideration that your belief is of little importance to us in relation to what we _know_ to be true. Elaborate as it might be, your life story is not convincing."

What can I say? I was dumbstruck. I know that my life is far from exciting, even if I do an edition of the interesting parts, but not credible? What did he think? It was the only life I _had_! And one I did want back. Even if that meant having to face Darth Colleague every day.

"Not convincing," I finally got out. That was so ridiculous. _This_ was not convincing. And hadn't they given me funny drugs anyway? Who did they think I was? Some kind of fancy Jedi?

"And what was it you gave me?"

"A cocktail of several veritas drugs, since we did not know which might work on you. Additionally, everything there is to ensure your compliance and obedience."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Only a little. There are some severe side effects, but most of them take effect only after a longer period of use. So, if we could come back to your trust issues now."

"I am not trusting any of my senses right now." I gesticulated helplessly.

A second later, I was cupping my hurting cheek. The Imperial had chosen a rather physical way to ascertain reality. Too bad, it seemed to be his and not mine.

"Do you need any other help finding out about reality, or will that suffice for now?" His tone was as monotone as ever.

"Enough," I snuffled. "But I have no other story, I could tell you, and if I am really as fuddled with drugs as you said, you should know."

"There are ways to deceive even memory," he said. "We will find out sooner or later. There are many ways to gain information from an individual, and most of do not include any scruples about the possible amount of suffering they inflict."

Of course, I had known about the less amiable ways of the Empire, but sitting on the receiving end of that policy was something else completely.

"But I intend to cooperate completely," I objected.

"And you have a strange way to show it. Still, if the scant information about reality turns out to be true, we might get rather interested in that 'Star Wars' thing." He made a pause that was so full of meaning that it was ringing in my ears. "Meanwhile, you will be monitored and if we have any more questions, we know how to get answers."

He was obviously finished for now. I wondered what he had gained from this session, except for a rather extensive, if biased, view of my life. I rubbed my cheek thoughtfully, wondering what it would mean, should I really be stuck here; apart from a cold cell and porridge-like food.

"If there is any issue you would like to raise?"

"A blanket," I said, without thinking. Oh, that was _so_ me. He looked at me strangely but said nothing. So much of it, that I felt the need to explain myself. He was rather good with those silences. "The cell is rather cold, you know. And if I could get something to distract myself, it's pretty boring, too."

"Cold and boring," he repeated.

"Yes. I mean, it's probably meant that way, but - well - I am cold and bored."

I was the king of rhetoric. Cesar would blush and weep, not to mention Mark Anton; he'd be unable to stop crying. I hung my head and trotted along. If the Imperial was right, then this was just the beginning. And I would be all alone in this.

I would not see my boyfriend again, my family, my friends. And what would they think? Had I just gone missing from one moment to the next? Would I be logged as missing and never return? The idea to bring such an unbearable fate upon all I knew and loved horrified me. Missing was worse than dead. How would they deal with it? Where could they find comfort?

The fact that I could do nothing to help them any hurt badly, too. I was alive and almost well, but they'd never know. And I had no means to tell a word, to calm any of them that I was okay. It would be easier on the boards. People went missing there all the time. Knowing that there might be somebody worrying still, and that even if my boyfriend remembered to tell I was lost, there would only be more people worrying about me.

We reached the cell, and another Imperial gave me a rough blanket. No comparison to my microfibre blanket at home. But I would probably not see that again for a long time. Neither would I see my new flat any day soon, I looked around in the tiny cell. The walls were of a darker grey than home, and the blood red garland of ivy I had painted around each room was missing too. This was not home.

I sat down; pulled my legs up, put my chin on my knees. I could not be stuck here. It was against everything I believed, and no matter what I told people, and no matter what people told me, being stuck here was not a thing I wanted. There was too much missing.

No more friends.  
No more family.  
No more boyfriend.  
No more boards.  
No more fanfic.  
No more degus.  
No more Horror Punk.  
Home, no more.

The list of all the things I wouldn't see or do any more grew until it turned into the realisation, that I might never see anything I ever knew again for as long as I lived.

I am not strong. Oh, I like to think of myself as a strong woman, independent and ready to take on things, but actually, I am pathetically weak. Curled up under the Imperial blanket I cried.

And that is the reason, I didn't update here.


	6. 006

Six

And that turned out to be not such a good idea. Not that I could have helped it much, and I had already calmed down a little, mostly because I was too exhausted to cry on, when the door opened again. I tried to appear calm, though my puffy face was probably a telltale sign for how I felt. The Imperial did not bring food. He did not want to perform any tests either. It was much worse.

"The Grand Admiral will see you now."

_The horror._ Red-eyed, puffy-faced, and wearing a shirt with a stupid-looking fat dormouse, I was going to see the Grand Admiral. The scenario of my dreams come true, it was so unbelievable. But you didn't keep that one waiting, especially not, if he turned out to be real. And I still had a fangirl in me. Somewhere, I was sure _she'd_ be happy at least.

So I got up, trying to wipe the traces of tears from my face as well as possible. Nothing could be done about the interesting shades of red my face showed though. I had experimented often in vain to find a cure. This was not really how I had envisioned a meeting with the Grand Admiral. In my daydreams it had always been a bit more - pleasing.

Now, plodding after the Imperial, I could think of many things I would have rather done. Root canal treatment, for example. We took a slightly different route and ended up at a slightly different room. I braced myself. There was nothing I could do to avoid this, so I might just as well smarten up and make the best of it I could. Where was a dentist when you needed him?

The room was a bit bigger, and at the table sat Grand Admiral Thrawn. His presence was filling the whole room, though. The books give a pretty good description of him, though, whoever did that picture on OBF should have ToS-violating things done to him, because he was so far from the truth. This man was - he was -

There I was, out of words when I needed them most. Not that it mattered. Nothing I could have said would have had any impact on him. Oh, he certainly was gorgeous and all that. Enough to make my inner fangirl faint and slobber (yes, both at the same time.) But - it did not matter.

No, it did not matter, nothing mattered, and I felt a little like Sam with the elves, only much sadder. It did not matter what I thought of him, he was most certainly above that. And he was even above realising it. Sitting there, watching me almost stumble over my own feet as I approached, it didn't matter that my face was all red and puffy; that I was wearing a silly shirt with a silly dormouse on it, or that I was probably misplaced though time and space.

I tried to take everything in, as I went to my seat; from the impeccably white uniform and the way it contrasted perfectly with the pale blue skin and the black hair. Somehow, I missed my squealing inner fangirl, she would have had a million ideas right now, but some research found her curled up in a corner of my subconscious, weeping. I tried not to look at his eyes, I had the bad feeling that something really stupid would happen in that case, and that I would be the perpetrator.

But how difficult is it, not to look at a person you are about to meet? I worked my way around the eyes slowly. The broad forehead, definitely, my kind; distinctive jaw line, just what I liked, not to mention that his brows looked picture-perfect. And then, his eyes had me. Man, those eyes do burn. Right through you, and the wall behind you, too. Still, I didn't feel uncomfortable, which was probably thanks to my inner fangirl, getting her act together again.

Those eyes watched me as I managed to sit down opposite of him without making a bigger idiot out of myself than I already had. Folding my hands on the table, I tried to be calm.

"So, Ms. Morrison," he radiated calm self-assurance, "you mentioned my demise at the end of this campaign." His voice was calm and carefully modulated. I have never heard such a controlled voice before. It was unthinkable that this man should ever do something that was not completely, rationally planned. "Why should I believe you?"

"Because I am a fishing boat." Oh my, I was not improving this any. If only my mind would catch up with my mouth.

One of Thrawn's brows rose in a way to make Spock cry with envy, not matter how illogical that would be. "A fishing boat?"

"Yes, when you tried to teach Car'das Cheunh. There is an aspirated 'p' in the second syllable that humans apparently can't pronounce. And I can't even remember the word -"

"Pohskapforian."

"Yes, that's it. Pohskapforian." I repeated. "Fishing boat, because we can't pronounce the other version correctly."

Somehow, the way he brought his hand to his lips and regarded me thoughtfully, was rather disconcerting. "Go on."

"_Erm_." What to say next? Instead of catching up, my mind seemed to have shut down. "Well, as you tried to wipe out the Vagaari, you accidentally destroyed the Outbound Flight. That pre-emptive attack got you exiled. But Parck found you and you decided to take your chances with the Empire."

A curt nod was all the answer I got. I was tempted to laugh rather frantically, but fortunately, the sound stuck in my throat. "Too bad, they will be back one day."

"I will be there."

"No, unfortunately, you will be dead. But Chaf'omrb'intrano will take commendable and terminal care of them."

Another of those moments in which he conveyed a wealth of things by doing nothing at all.

"That's past and far future, is there anything you can tell, that can be verified?"

I swallowed. "Well, currently, I think, you are gathering information to find the location of Wayland, where you hope to find blueprints, if not still working Spaarti cloning cylinders, with which you want to produce an army to man the Katana fleet, and that will go pretty fast, because of the Ysalmiri, though you have to deal with Talon Karrde, since he happened to set up his headquarter on Myrkr." I took a deep breath. "Any other questions?"

"Is there any distinct event you can relate?"

Was there? I usually knew the first sentence of my fave books by heart, but I doubted the Grand Admrial could relate to that. Besides, I didn't even know the first line of the. But -well. It was one of my favourite lines ever, and at the beginning, too. It would have to do. I cleared my throat.

"After the information raid of Obroa-skai, when the scouts return, Lieutenant Tschel will shout information across the bridge at Captain Pellaeon. And he will reply -" I took a moment to concentrate and get it right. "_This is not the cattle market in Shaum Hii, Lieutnant Tschel. This is the bridge of an Imperial Star Destroyer. Routine information is not - repeat not - simply shouted in the general direction of its intended recipient. Is that clear?_ Or mostly that."

There was an almost imperceptible nod, but no answer. I would have talked on just to fill the silence, but I had nothing left to say. If that didn't do the trick, nothing would. So I waited. And waited some more. It was a strange silence, probably intended to be uncomfortable, but I felt fine. It was not a clandestine dinner or something to that effect, but unlike most fangirls, I had the original Thrawn right there in front of me. Regarding me intently. Remembering the other fans, there was a way to find out, if I was the only one that had ended up in such a predicament.

"Say, do you know fudge ripple?"

Okay, it was not a question you'd ask a Grand Admiral. But if **AlexisWingstar** had managed to introduce it to the GFFA, he should know about it. I hoped. And that would prove, to me at least, that I was not completely insane. Just pretty much.

He did not look surprised or astonished, though. I think, his features were incapable of conveying anything but determination, mild interest and natural superiority. Not that I objected to any of those. There might have been a subtle shift in the glowing of his eyes, but I would need more information to find out if that counted as body language or not.

For somebody who did not know the importance of fudge ripple in ascertaining the reality I believed in, Thrawn reacted amazing.

"Yes, I do."

If I had still been in command of the story, I would have gone back then and edited the question. And live happily ever after. Too bad. At least, I knew that my home was still some degree of real, and that there was a way back. Somehow. How else could **Alexis** have posted her story? So there was hope. I had to believe.

I nodded. "Okay."

He cocked his head slightly, probably expecting a little more. But I would certainly not tell him how fudge ripple related to reality. I tried to radiate expectant innocence.

There was that flicker in his eyes again, just before he gestured shortly with his hand. The door opened and the Imperial that had brought me returned. Obviously the hearing was over. I got up, feeling drained and tired. The cold that came with the tiredness was creeping up my arms from my fingertips already.

"I hope for your sake that your information is correct." It was a threat and a promise at the same time.

I could not look at him. I looked at my hands. "I hope for yours, that they are not."

I followed the Imperial who led me back to my cell. This had not gone well at all.

There was more gooey food and drink. I ate listlessly, not even caring for the strange taste. I wanted home. When the tablet was collected, I got another shot, I didn't feel at all and was handed more pills. I took them all. What the hell? There was nothing I could do anyway. If I was caught in an illusion, it was the most realistic I had ever seen. And if not - I didn't want to think of that. Then I curled up under the blanket and fell into an exhausted sleep immediately.

And that is the reason, I didn't update.


	7. 007

Seven

Seven

I woke up - sometime. Nobody had deemed it necessary to tell me what time it was here, but I felt sure, it was morning somewhere. It always was.

The plan to roll over and just pretend awakening had never happened was thwarted by the bunk, though. Nobody in his right mind would consider sleeping on it longer than necessary, actually, nobody in his tight mind would consider sleeping on it at all. I yawned and sat up. My shoulders felt pretty cramped and there were spots dancing before my eyes. I was not sure if that was just my normal lack of iron or if the 'medication' had anything to do with it.

The headache creeping into focus, let me suspect the later. It started somewhere behind my head, and seeped slowly through my skull. Once it had arrived, it threw a party, though. A part pogoed against the inside of my skull with abandon, while another bit did a Russian boot dance on my optic nerve.

I rubbed my eyes vigorously, but the headache refused to be impressed. Instead, one of my contacts decided that this was a good time to take off. I caught it just in time, but then did have problems to insert it again. It was dry as toast and felt like I was trying to insert a brick into my eye. After some deliberation, I tried some spittle. It worked, as far as the lens attached itself to my pupil again, still it felt more like sandpaper than a proper contact. If I didn't get to do something about that, I would spent the remainder of my time her blind as a mole.

Teh Mole Game! I would so lose, I would miss three challenges and thus even fail to get an interesting death scene. And people would worry where I was. Fortunately, the pain in my head throbbed too bad for me to follow that train of thought. I rubbed my forehead and temples, but I didn't even feel the pressure. If I wasn't so scared that my head would fall off, if I banged it against the bulkhead, I would have. But I was rather attached to my head and wanted to keep it that way.

I lean against the bulkhead, trying not to vomit, mostly because I hadn't eaten anything anyway. Either the engines were in a very bad shape suddenly, or the shaking came from me. I suspected the latter, but was unable to confirm it, since I had to steady the bed with my hands and thus could not bring them up before my eyes to see how badly I was shaking.

After I managed not to throw up by breathing as deeply as my shaking allowed, and also imagining how nobody would come to clean up afterwards, and how I was certainly in no shape to reach the toilet, my stomach decided to growl with hunger instead. The machinations of the body - I'll never understand it.

Another thing hit me suddenly. I had no idea how many actual days I was here already. Which meant I had only a vague way to measure how long it would be until I was I for a red surprise. I just hoped there were some women aboard this ship, because if not, I might be in trouble where provisions for that case were concerned. The troubles you never hear of in fanfic.

Slowly the shaking subsided and I could let go of the bunk. When I held my hand up, it looked I had a bad case of Parkinson. Nasty side effects. Or, well, maybe not. I could not know if this was not an orchestrated feint to make me believe it was the side effects, while it was just induced on purpose to make me feel bad. And do - whatever. The first part, certainly worked well enough, but as long as I had no clue what I was to do… .

Controlling myself, at least gave me something to do while nothing happened. And that seemed to happen for a very long time. I almost felt like a human being again, albeit a chewed up and spit out human being, when breakfast arrived. I was amazed to see that instead of the usual gruel it looked like a thin wafers with yellow dippy stuff. There were more pills and something that smelled like an abominable perversion of black tea. Oh joy.

I would like to report that the stuff tasted better than it smelled, but when you think rooibos tastes like brewed branches, this was more like brewed bark mulch. With extra ground up bark beetle. The wafers tasted of little, but were crunchy and a little sweet. The dip, whatever that was, had a slightly sour note, but it was edible. If that was the standard version of Imperial breakfast, I would join the Rebellion faster than you could say 'Earl Grey,' though.

Provided I got out.

A while after I finished the tablet was collected again and I was left with nothing to do but speculate which part of me would hurt worse next. It seemed that everything that did not contain vital organs fared well enough, my fingers and toe tended to prickle as if numb, but that was it. Maybe they were numb and that was a blessing, I was not tempted to find out.

After a while my stomach decided that the breakfast was too disgusting to stay inside, and I spent half an eternity trying to convince it of the opposite. After all, there was a nice chance that I would have to take all those pills again, too. Unfortunately, my stomach did not have to do the swallowing and I had to give in. Those space toilets are rather difficult to hug, I tell you.

After a while, I managed to get up again, but not for long. The spinning of my head transferred to the room, and I was rather glad when the bunk came along and I could drop on it. Only that it was faster than me, and I hit my head on it's edge. The impact added a nice ring to the rest of my headaches, yes, it was definitely more than one, and fighting for predominance, too.

I managed to lay down on the bunk, and would have watched the room, spin, only that there was not much to see in this grey monotony. Closing my eyes was much more interesting, though seeing how pain explodes in your head did have disadvantages, too. Blinding headaches for example.

Hard bunk or not, I decided to lie low for a while.  
And then, lie low some more. The plain did not go away, but it did not get any more interesting, either. Soon, it was just pain boring.

The pun was as bad as the pain. At least, it gave me something to think about while nothing kept happening in abundance.

I had no idea how bored you can get when you can't do anything. Maybe this was mean to wear me down, but I didn't think I could get much lower. Except lying on the floor, but there was no way to roll under the bed.

Sometime, the pain subsided. It was nice to have a head that didn't feel as if it was about to explode any moment. I would not trust my stomach with any food as yet, though.

Still, nothing happened.  
I was more bored than before, now that I couldn't even concentrate on not vomiting or such. Very bored. Even more bored. You have no idea how bored.

But nothing happened at all

And I got so bored out of my wits, that I forgot to update here.


	8. 008

Eight

Eight

I must have fallen asleep, because the hiss of the opening door awoke me. Another Imperial entered, and to my amazement I was almost bored with them by now, nifty uniforms or not.

"Follow me."

Now that was nice. No 'good morning how did you sleep?' or 'Did you get nightmares from the drugs, how are the cramps from the hard bunk?'. No. I yawned hastily and got up. The floor was unexpectedly cooperative, and though I did not see clearly yet, I managed to stumble after the officer. I probably looked as clueless as the dormouse on my shirt.

Oh my. I was still in the same clothes I arrived in. And I was here for how long now? Did I really want to know? It was getting yukky now, and no, I did _not _want to know how long Princess Leia had probably been in detention. In just one dress. I resisted the urge to smell at my shirt, but if they kept me like that a bit longer, I might just be able to break free by using my socks as biological weapons.

The room I was finally shoved in was tiny again, just a table, one chair, and a screen.

"Sit."

Now he was really a talkative one. I obeyed and then groped around the table, just in case there was some invisible breakfast around. But no such luck. I yawned again. "Breakfast?" I inquired.

Instead, the screen lit up.

"Tell what happens, _before _it happens."

I stared at him, then back at the screen. A few red blips had already appeared, and now, they were joined by some green dots.

"Oh," I mumbled. "Seems like the scouts from the Obroa-Skai information raid are back.

"Well, those green blips are probably the squad that the Grand admiral just sent to meet the intruders, one of them get shot - yup there he goes." I thought about the man who had a second been alive and now gone. It was probably a good plan overall, but for him…

"Well, they're recalled now and the ship will turn to do a Marg Sabl. However that is spelled and pronounced. And that because that nifty manoeuvre just now told the Admrial that the leader of the opposite force is Elom. I think it was Elom, and because of that, he cannot react to a properly executed Marg Sable. Has something to do with chaotic structure or something."

I paused to look at the screen. How many people were there aboard each of the red blips? One at least, maybe two, what if there was a frigate or something like that in the task force? The books never said. A host of green blips appeared on the screen, swerving apparently at random, but closing in on the red dot nevertheless. I could understand the poor Elom, this looked like chaos incarnate.

"Anyway, none of the intruders will survive." It sounded a lot different now than it had in the books. Already, the red dots started to blink out, scrambling across the screen in mad disorder. And each of them, had living people in it. Each light that went out, was a life destroyed, a family torn apart

All red blips blinked out. It took some time, and watching was not pleasant. I almost winced when another vanished. And another. And another. It was a relief when they were all gone, and I wondered how people could stand it, to knowingly wipe out other people, to kill just because- yeah, just because of what? Suddenly, I did not feel hungry the least. I kept staring at the monitor even after it went blank. War was all very nice, if you were not there to feel it.

The hand that descended on my shoulder, almost made me jump over the table. "Follow me."

I looked up at the Imperial who seemed unfazed by what had just happened. Yes, I should have know that, and I did know somehow, but to know about and to really _know _it, that was two completely different thing. I tagged along dejectedly, rather hoping I would turn up at home again. The idea was not cheering me, though. I perked up only, when we passed a huge set of blast doors and entered an area that was alive with other Imperials. I had left detention.

It looked pretty much like the movies, only that Imperials seemed to be swarming around everywhere. It was very much an overkill of those uniform, I mean, everybody was wearing them. Did those guys have no slacks for time off? Or was there no time off on a Star Destroyer? I almost missed the turbolift, but a quick jerk of my head saved my forehead from any injuries. Unfortunately, nobody else entered the lift, it might have been my companions fault, I don't know. Or my smell. After all, I had been stuck in my clothes for quite a while now.

Anyway, those turbolifts are fun. You hardly notice when they move, true, but they're not only moving up and down. Makes sense when you think about how long those Star Destroyers are. It would take one forever to get from one end to the other, even if you had those silly scooters with motors to stand on. And even though you felt almost nothing, your stomach was not that easily fooled. I remembered being at odds with it, but this was different. As if you were tickled at a place you didn't know you had.

We left again at a similarly busy place, only this time I did see some Imperials in slacks, or jumpsuits. Whatever, it did not look as good as the uniforms, so I ignored it. The corridors seemed to get smaller and the crowds less. Finally, we stopped at a door that looked like all others we had passed by. I just hoped, nobody expected me to get around on my own. I'd end up in the rooms of very many surprised Imperials.

"You room." He almost shoved me over the threshold.

So I got my own room, huh? I turned to ask some questions, but he was already gone. Poking my head out of the door, I could see his retreating back, but didn't dare to call. You didn't just shout after an officer through the corridors of a Star Destroyer, did you? Before I could make up my mind on that point, he was gone. Looking around, I decided to stay put. The idea to end up in other people's rooms might have it's appeal, but right now, I didn't. I needed a shower.

The room was small, okay tiny. Just a bunk on one side, let into the wall, which I suspected harboured lockers for clothes and stuff. Not more than an arm's length of space separated it from a small desk, and enough place to live out your individuality, provided it fit inside a CD tower. Maybe you could even fit in a visitor. At the other end there was a second door, leading to the shower. I hoped. Carefully, I approached it, remembering **Alexis**. This could be difficult.

Well, it wasn't. Not immediately. In a tiny space there was a basin and toilet, and _then _it became difficult. The shower looked like Giger's worst nightmare. Knobs and switched and strange appendages, I would not have been surprised to hear a voice ask me what kind of suicide I had chosen. Tentatively, I turned the nearest switch. And found water. Lots of it. And no way to switch it off.

Of course, right then the door opened. I tried to switch off the shower, but only when a hand reached over my shoulder and used a very different switch, did the downpour end. I tried to remember that switch for later use. Otherwise, the water usage of the ship was about to increase dramatically.

"Thanks," I mumbled, trying not to drip all over the new arrival. Another Imperial, who would have thought. There was dinner on the desk, and left, shaking his head in disbelief. I must have seemed more stupid than that dormouse. I fidgeted. The I showered. Very long.

I felt a lot better, especially, after finding that somebody had been considerate enough to put some clean jumpsuits into the lockers over the bunk. And food, real food, this time. There was some grainy stuff that reminded me of rice and a kind of stew with bits that felt like water chestnuts, but tasted more like filet. It was all over salty and spicy and before I realised, I had gobbled it all down. There was only water to drink, but that was okay. And, I got dessert. Yay, for the Imperial army. I am sure dessert is one of the best ways to keep the morale up.

No, really.

It was fudge ripple. I stared a long time, before I dared to poke my spoon into it and it was delicious. Suddenly, I felt as if everything was only half bad. I might be stuck, but now board and lodging looked a lot better. I was clean, in clean clothes, and though they were certainly not cut to flatter my figure, it was much better than my usual work uniform. After scraping the last scraps of dessert out of the bowl, I sat down to see if I could get the computer up.

I could, which was nice. The handling was rather intuitive, unlike the monster of a shower. The screen lit up and - well, there was something on it, written, for all I could tell. And why the hell, did I learn elfish runes? I shut down the display, grumbling over the cruel injustice that made this galaxy so consistent. I could not read a single letter of aurabesh. I was _so_ lost.

Not wanting anybody to drop in on me while I slept, I placed the tray on the floor outside the door. Fortunately, there was nobody around to see that, I felt stupid enough anyway. The lights went out on a word and I plopped down on the bunk. It felt glorious. After some sleep on an Imperial prison bunk anything would have felt good, but this was really great. Adapting formoplas or whatever almost embraced me. Whenever I moved, it rearranged and the closeness was almost intrusive. But it was so cosy, and the blanket so much softer than the one in detention. And I was almost happy.

I fell asleep. And that is the reason, I didn't update here.


	9. 009

Nine

Something beeped in my dreams. An annoying, high-pitched beep that just didn't stop. I began to wonder if it was the alarm clock of my neighbour; it certainly wasn't mine. My alarm clock was fourteen years old and shouted me out of sleep in Klingon. I had tried everything else, from huge metal bells that caused an earthquake to roll be out of bed to timed radio and getting up to music. Nothing worked very long. Except this one. Admittedly, after fourteen years, nothing much was left of the TNG-Enterprise on top of it, the last engine had just broken off, but the clock was never late, and the Klingon always got me out of bed. 'Enterprise hivlu' indeed.

The beeping didn't stop. I rolled over and opened an eye, peering around. I was in no place where my alarm clock could reach me, but a small light on the terminal blinked in time with the beeping. Yawning, I got up and shuffled to the desk. Intuitively, I hit the button and an annoyed Imperial looked at me.

"Why are you not in conference room Esk114?"

Oh-ha, snappy answers in the morning. Completely not my specialty. I tried to look as little bleary as possible. "Because I'm here?"

"The system is positive that you did read your schedule yesterday. Why did you not adhere to it?"

My, he was unhappy with me alright. His Imperial indignation poured over me like a waterfall. At least, I now knew what I had been looking at yesterday. My schedule, how considerate.

"So that's what it was," I guessed I sounded sheepish. "I can't read aurebesh, you see, so I had no idea."

"You can't read."

"Aurebesh. I can't read aurebesh. I am simply used to different looking letters." I sighed.

"I'll send someone." He broke the connection.

Well, good enough for me. I had time to figure out the sonic part of the shower. With luck. And could continue my quest for a toothbrush, which was more difficult than it should be. And by now, I must have had real rancor breath. Still, first things first. I had just changed into something that looked more like an every-day jumpsuit than a sleeping-jumpsuit, to me at least, when there was more beeping. I went to the desk, but that was not it. Instead it was the doors. I looked them up and down.

"Enter."

Well, worth a try. There was still beeping and no open door. I began to look for some kind of touchpad like in the cell, but there seemed to be none. I was wondering if there was some kind remote on the desk, when the sound stopped and the door hissed open.

"Um." I said.

On the other side stood a young man, looking none too happy. Babysitting duty was probably not what he had had in mind when he joined the Empire. He saluted crisply before entering my room.

"Ensing Arn," he introduced himself. "Kassandran Arn."

"Mellanna Morrison," I replied, unsure whether to hold out my hand or not. "Sorry for all the fuss," tried to apologize. "I am all new to the military."

"Don't worry, I don't think anybody has noticed."

Was that humour? In am Imperial? I decided to like this Kassadran Arn. "Well, I could need some help," I admitted awkwardly, beckoning him in. "Sonic showering for one, and I can't for the life of me find a toothbrush."

I didn't dare to look over my shoulder and see if he rolled his eyes. The shower turned out to be more complicated than expected. A lot of twiddling knobs and getting frequencies right was involved before you could actually shower. That had something to do with it being waves and every person have a different wavelength. And anyway, as long as I wore a jumpsuit, nothing would work correctly. I decided to remember everything an try that later. Or keep showering with water. That seemed a very likely option.

The toothbrush was my next point on the list. Ensign Arn was probably happy about that, considering he was cooped up with me and no breathing mask. The reason I didn't find it was easy, I had taken it for one of those things you get on the last pages of catalogues, euphemised and 'massage stick'. Only that this one was smaller. Well, seems you stick it into your mouth and it cleans your teeth with some kind of sonics, too.

I tried it, and it did work. Okay, the thing sprayed my mouth with some fluid that was even worse than what my dentist does to me, but I rarely felt that clean in my mouth. Which left only one thing. Not that I liked to talk to a complete stranger about, oh, well.

"And then, I'd need -" I felt the colour rise in my face, slowly, but unstoppable. "Erm, items for personal hygiene for women?" I could have lit the cell with my red face.

"Why?"

Erm.  
Double erm.  
And a huge red blush.

"Because I was taking some contraceptive and since I am here, I didn't. So, it is just a matter of time before," how I wished he'd interrupt me because he got my drift, but no such luck. Those Imps are tough and nasty. "Well, my period might start any minute."

He got a pad from a pocket and studied something. I wanted to fidget, but was too embarrassed. Finally he looked up.

"According to the medical file, you have taken a weeks contraceptive already. Your schedule also lists the monthly visit at the medic, where you will get the shot for each month." He cocked his head slightly. "I hope you are not too attached to your period because you will have to do without it as long as you stay."

Wow. I just hoped that in the process of that, they had also gotten rid of those nasty monthly mood-swings and all. That would be a life. That alone would make it worth to join the Empire.

"Oh. Good. I guess."

"If we could start on the aurebesh now." He gestured to the desk.

"Sure." I turned the computer on and as last time, an interesting something in aurebesh was displayed. My schedule, probably. Only that I could see no numbers. And those were the same, or were they?

"Can't read a word," I informed Arn. "The only thing I know is that aurek is probably my 'a' and besh my 'b'. You have something to write?"

He handed me the pad and what seemed to be a pen. I wrote my alphabet onto the pad as well as I could. Only capitals for starters, there was no reason to confuse him more than necessary. It turned out it was easier to get my ideas across trying English pronunciations instead of German ones. The joys of communication.

Also, aurebesh seemed to have more letters than a normal alphabet, but some tongue-breaking and common sense made those bits out to be short forms of 'th' and such. A bit like the elvish runes after all.

Arn proved to be a real wizard with my computer. He managed to transfer the data from his pad to my comp and immediately print out a table with both alphabets. The extra letters were scattered a bit strangely, but otherwise it looked fine. Then he got the screen back to the first position.

I felt so awkward, piecing together the writing in the screen. And it took ages, too. Arn just stood behind me, like a hovering presence making sure I was working okay.

U-s-e-r N-u-m-b-e-r 347768957: M-e-ll-a-nn-a M-orrison.

Okay, I guessed the last bit. And there is no way to convey the slowness with which I deciphered the greeting below that. Then there was a menu, allowing me to see my schedule, access a library, the black board, things I could not place, and a kind of sat nav for the ship.

"Most sites are disabled for you, of course," Arn explained when I tried to access the library in vain.

"Because I might just read all the letters out of it." I was grumpy. What good was a library you couldn't access. Even if you didn't understand a word that was written, a library was always a soothing place. And one, the doors of which should never be locked. I sighed, and tried to get to my schedule instead. I would have to remember what was placed where in the list or learn aurebesh really fast.

My schedule looked - military. Getting up at 6am. Who did they think I was? I _never_ got up that early. All you could do with me that time of the day, was roll me out of the bed and across the floor. I couldn't even have breakfast, which was scheduled for half an hour later. Maybe it could work, provided I got the hang of sonic showering.

Then there came lessons, meetings and even some time for lunch. Visits at the medics, several of those, tests, more tests, some more lessons and meetings, until I could finally return to my room at 8pm. This did not sound like fun, even with all meals accounted for. I was SO dead.

"Seems I missed some check-up," I said.

"Not to mention a tactical meeting with the leaders, one of who called your rather annoyed," Arn sounded slightly amused.

"What would I do there? I have no clue about tactics, or leadership." Or meetings, actually.

"You are supposed to relate the rebels next steps." He sounded matter-of-factly.

The things that get decided about you, when you're not around. Amazing. "You can tell the Grand Admiral he can put that plan where - well, he can forget about that."

A smile appeared on Arn's face. "No, I won't. Your meeting with the Grand Admiral this afternoon is still to come. You can tell him yourself." His amused expression clearly showed that he imagined me telling Thrawn to put it where the sun doesn't shed daylight. At least, he was not snorting with laughter.

"Great," I mumbled beat. "What else?"

He just pointed at the screen. There was the time in one corner and I deciphered, with growing dread the words 'endurance test'. I was dead. At least, I wished I was. My condition was non-existent. And knowing the Imperials, they would insist on doing something against that. If only, to keep me occupied.

I put on my boots and decided to get lost on the way. Only that Arn would be around, which was a clever move in more than one way suddenly.

"Get your pad," he pointed at a bit of my computer.

I pulled at it, and indeed, it came off and was a pad. It came to live, stating my next destination and began to order me around. 'Turn left'. Oh, joy. It seemed that all I had to do now was follow the orders of everything around me, even my own pad. Maybe this would be easier than I had expected.

I followed the instructions through a maze of corridors until I ended up in a torture chamber called gym. And after the test were through, so was I.

And that is the reason, I didn't update here.


	10. 010

Ten

Those Imperials, I tell you. Or I would, but after that test, I was so exhausted, I was glad, I didn't collapse at Arn's feet. I was even redder in the face than at the most embarrassing moment before, and additionally I was huffing and puffing like a steam train short of water. Everybody who passed the tests here, could probably win an ironman at home with no problem.

I learned that there was a perfunctory way to use sonic showers, which was probably better for all involved. The procedure prickled on my skin and it felt as if all my hair stood on end, but it was a far cry from feeling actually clean. Arn had done little but stand around and chat amiably with my torturer. He looked almost bored when he handed back my pad.

The annoying thing lit up immediately, I suspected it was coded to the current owner via something, if not even DNA. Seemed, I needed to see some doctors now, and the way 'turn left, hurry up.' Well, I felt as if I could need a doctor, or a two week holiday at the beach. Hurry up, was not on my list. Still, I accelerated my steps.

I got to the shrink. Now. Somebody explain the inner workings of the Empire to me, because I didn't get it. Arn was banished from the room, though I bet he had the chance to listen in from somewhere. The session was rather short. I was asked about my fears, traumata, indications for depressions or other mental illnesses, and my hopes. Pretty much in that order. It was probably the 'end on something nice' tactic, after all, you remember the last bit best. Then I was to do some connotations, which turned out fun. But it is not my fault the man had never heard of horror punk, fanfic or Chobits before. Also it was probably frowned upon, to ask back. But what am I to answer when asked if, given the opportunity, I had joined the Empire rather than the Rebellion? And being a man, he probably did not understand what monthly mood-swing have to do with anything. He should watch that documentation about the guy taking pills to go through cycles one day. Or stay home with his wife for longer than a week.

Anyway, blotches of ink were next, and there were no problems with 'butterfly', but already 'dandelion' needed some explanation, not to mention 'drunk elephant'. I tired to improve the situation by saying I saw blotches of ink, that were mirrored in the middle, but he didn't like that approach. I think, he was taking all that rather serious. In the end he just showed me a picture and we talked until we were both sure to have understood the other correctly. That way, we only managed half of the images, but it was a kind of fun.

Afterwards I valiantly followed the instructions of my pad - back to my room. Seemed, I was not going to have lunch with the others. Too bad, it would have been interesting. Not that cared much right now. I plopped down on the bed, ignoring my lunch for the longest time. But considering that I had to get going soon anyway, and nobody really cared what I though about it, I decided to at least sulk with my stomach full.

There was some equivalent of salad, sliced meat in sauce with brown bits, and puree that looked like potato, but tasted more like fresh ground bark smelled. Since I like that smell, it was fine. Somehow, you never realise how bad your vocabulary is for describing strange food, until there is nothing else to eat. For dessert, there was a red blob that was mostly sweet and tasted like artificial cherry aroma. So close to home.

I snuffled defiantly and slipped my pad into the terminal. It flickered to life and opened a window demanding - well. You may just insert a five minute break here, because it took about that long to realize it only wanted to update the schedule information on my pad. I was rather surprised to be asked at all, it was not something that happened often here.

Then I did some more reading, just to keep my mind occupied. It would be rather embarrassing, if Arn found me with my nose in the keyboard drooling all over the place in my sleep. Ferocious beeping and blinking gave me the notion, that the pad was finished. I pulled out and it sprang to live commanding me out of my room - pronto!- and down the corridor to the left.

Oh joy.

If that was, where future technologies led to, I would be adamant against it soon as I was back home. Home. My steps resounded from the corridor. It did sound military and determined, just as I had imagined, but somehow, I wished I was back at imagining. It had been much nicer. And less stressful. And there had always been the opportunity to back out of the scenario. Now, the only way was -

"Turn right."

- 'on' was the only word I could think of. I had no idea how to get back, I didn't even know whether to use 'when' or 'if' in that context.

"Turn right."

I almost bumped into the door. "Erm."

It was probably the right magic word, because, on cue, the door slid open. The small conference room was adorned only with the Grand Admiral. Somebody could have warned me. I glared at the pad, which didn't even try to look embarrassed but just blinked a message in aurebesh at me. As I sat down, I wondered if it would be okay to try and read it, considering how long that would take. Or, I could just ask Thrawn to translate for me. Splendid.

Instead I just put the pad on the table. "I hope it's nothing important," I said shrugging.

"It is not."

"Good."

Oh the silence. Silent night was nothing compared to this, and anyway, they had those bawling angels around and all. "I heard you wanted to know about the rebels' next steps?"

"And I heard you were not enthusiastic about the idea."

I went from white to red in an amazingly short moment. Hopefully, the original wording had not been reported. "I'm not," I admitted.

"Which raises the question why, and why you think that you had a choice."

Freedom of choice. I got the feeling that in the Empire that applied only as long, as you chose what the Empire wanted. I looked at my hands. How could I betray Luke and Han and all to the Empire? I mean, this was _real_. With Thrawn leading, they would all be dead. Which might just spare them the misery of NJO, but still. How could I be responsible for their deaths. And, considering I was about to bargain my life for Thrawn's, wouldn't I be anyway. Sooner or later?

"I take from your silence that you are reconsidering."

I perked up. "Uh, no, not really. I am - considering - many things." And none of them pleasant. No matter how I turned the TTT, somebody always ended up dead. In Thrawn's case that would not be my fault, only that if he died, I was as good as dead, too. And I was rather attached to my life. Even the Imperial version of it, which so far sucked more than it was nice.

"And I really can't tell you what happens next. I forgot most of it." It was not a lie. The moves and tactics of the Alliance was not what I had my focus on while reading, and the stuff I remembered in detail was rather random.

"So you will, once your memory has been brought back."

"No!"

Did I just say 'no' to that man? I needed some reasons and soon. And they better were good, because trying to fudge up an excuse would certainly not work with that one. He knew about fudge.

"Because of causality," I grabbed the last straw I saw. "When I change things, I cannot be sure, everything will work as planned." Hey, the excuse was good, it might even work. I tried to appreciate the calculating look he gave me before ploughing on.

"You see, I might now the when and how now, but if the chain of events changes too much, I might never see it coming." Good reasoning. Go, me! "So the only way I can guarantee to save you is when things proceed as I know them."

He seemed to consider that.

"So you don't believe that a fast crushing of the rebellion will prevent the attempt on my life?" He sounded mildly curious.

"Well," I hesitated, " I would not want to bet your life on it."

There was more silence as he probably rearranged his plans to accommodate for an unexpected madwoman. "But precluding my death, the campaign will work out?"

"Oh. Splendid," I squeaked. "There's nothing between you and victory."

He looked at me pointedly.

_Erm_. I looked at my hands again. It was amazing how much better I felt when I did not have to look at the Grand Admiral of my dreams.

"Dismissed."

I was so concentrated, that I almost didn't hear him. His expression was thoughtful, but clearly indicating that I had not seen the last of this.

"Thank you, Sir." I bolted to the door. Then I remembered the pad, returned, grabbed it and bolted again, looking up just long enough to see that strange flicker in his eyes again. Maybe it was the Chiss way of laughing at somebody.

As soon as the door closed behind me, the pad spoke up again, directing me to my next appointment. I would never get anything private done with such a schedule. I would probably have to give up writing. I sighed, thinking of all my unfinished WIPs. At least, I had a good excuse now.

And that is the reason, I didn't update here.


	11. 011

Eleven

Well, the rest of the day was mostly 'appraising my physical and psychological state', which meant getting nekkid in front of a small army if Imperial doctors and have my contacts taken away. They called them 'artificial enhancers' which sounded a lot better. Not that that seemed to help any. The mere idea of being unable to have my eyes set straight seemed to lower their opinion of me several notches. Provided there was still a 'lower' to go to.

At least, Arn was not around as I had several gallons of blood taken. The missing fluid was immediately refilled with shots against all and everything. The GFFA was huge and there were as many diseases around as planets. I felt as if I had run into a horde of rabid hedgehogs. They also ripped out a strand of hair, probably to check my drug abuse history. I hoped chococino did not show up in the hair structure.

I returned to my room blind as a mole. Not that _that_ helped any. I had some reading to do, rather boring stuff about the makeup of a Star Destroyer, but that was as well. I couldn't remember a word for concentrating so hard on deciphering the letters. It took forever and a few headaches to finish the assigned text. But that was not all. For better practice, Arn asked me to write a summary of it. By hand.

Good thing he left me alone then, because I was close to giving in to the dark side and trying to suffocate him - with my socks, since I was as force sensitive as toast. I sat down grumbling, and began to read again. Frigging Sith can take aurebesh, they probably invented it just to annoy me anyway.

By the time dinner arrived, I had almost understood everything. Only that it still didn't make much sense. I had always firmly believed that technobabble was a Star Trek problem, but it seemed that engineers over here also liked to know how their ships worked. As far as I was concerned, I though a hyperdrive and hydrospanner were all you needed.

I sulked over my dinner, remembering the time when all I had to do in case of doubt was ask wookieepedia, or make something up. _What wouldn't I give, but, oh, in vain._ I sighed and tried not to drown in my self-pity. Suddenly I stopped short. Yes, what _wouldn't_ I give, but how long would I remember that one? Given the current state of my head, how long would I remember _anything_?

Shoving the tray away, I closed my eyes, placed my fingers on the keyboard and frantically tried to calm down. Then I typed right away. 'Lament' was easy, as where the first lines of 'Medora', but after the first stanzas I had to really think, and then there was still 'No solution'. I would never get that together again, not to mention all the German stuff. My hands hovered over the keyboards. Suddenly I wanted to cry and batter the display to pieces with my head. I would never get everything together again. Never.

When the world began to turn again, the screen was blank again, the file empty. I picked up the lightpen and got to work on the summary. I needed to concentrate on something completely different, if I didn't want to crack up right there and then. In the end it was half a page of horrible hieroglyphs, but I didn't care. I curled up under the blanket trying to shut out the realisation of what I had lost. Which seemed to become ever more, as I desperately tried to remember everything. But I was fighting a lost battle and I knew it.

Still, I fought. I had to. I couldn't just give all that up, could I? So I fought until I fell asleep.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	12. 012

Twelve

I awoke fearing for my life. There was nothing in the pitch blackness of my room but the humming of the engines and my ragged breath. I pressed my back against the bulkhead and tried to breathe normally and get to the bottom of my nightmare. It was already half gone again. I remembered being followed through the corridors of the ship by bony shadows with huge teeth. But or course, there was nowhere to go, only endless corridors, with locked doors and the patter of feet behind me.

Finally, the shadows caught up with me, approaching from bit sides. It were Dita and Meeper, as tall as me, but horribly starved and their teeth were threatening me. I had not been there to feed them, and now they were back to - I couldn't remember. But I knew it was more terrible than anything.

I pulled the blanket up and tried to forget about it, it was only a nightmare after all. But I couldn't. Who _did_ feed those two now? My boyfriend couldn't take them in, he had a cat. Maybe my sister would take care of them. I hoped so, they had been of well in her care when I was on holiday. I just hope somebody did feed them. I saw their round snouts wobble accusingly just before they broke into on of their loud cheeping attacks.

Pulling the blanket over my head, I tried to think of something else. Not matter, just not home. _Bad day tomorrow, right? Getting up at six, pure horror. I never got up at six before. Maybe for some very weird stuff at uni, but that was years ago. Okay, if the degus had turned their running wheel into a noise-making machine, then I had to get up. They liked to do that. _Damned.

But how difficult is it NOT to think of something. Don't think of a green elephant, right? Well, a green elephant was better than degus.

Not again.

I tried to clear my mind of any thought. I had no use for that now. My alarm clock would pull me out of sleep too soon anyway, and each second I was awake now, was on less I had slept. _Think of nothing,_ I told myself, the big swirling nothing that swallows up everything. Only, that it refused to swallow up me, too.

So I lay, staring into the darkness behind my lids and wished for once, that I was a Jedi and could just immerse myself in the Force and find peace of mind. Though, considering my luck, I'd probably find a piece of mind, and whose that might be was anybody's guess. Good thing Palps was dead already. Or was he? I never got the Dark Empire straight on the timeline.

The idea of creepy wrinkle face being still around was no improvement of the situation. It would be bad enough when C'Baoth would be around later, and that one was mad as a hatter. And I would have some ysalamiri to protect me. Maybe, I could get two of those to substitute for Dita and Meeper.

Here I went round again.

Maybe I should have been grateful. At least, it was not my boyfriend I was thinking about or my family. That would hurt bad. That would - I felt a lump form in my throat. Real good work there, Mel. Pulling up my knees, I tried to think of degus again. Not that it helped any. So I lay curled, trying hard to think of degus until I finally fell asleep again.

And that is the reason, I didn't update here.


	13. 013

Thirteen

The next morning was indeed a real drag. The alarm went off at six sharp, but the effect was low. I wanted my Klingon-Shout-Out back. Still I managed to roll out of bed and make it into the sonic somehow. I am not sure I got everything right, but it felt as if something happened, anyway. But just when most of the lights went to green, another beeping started, the door.

Breakfast I guessed, and tried to shut down the sonic. Not that is seemed to work, and the door would not open itself. I stopped short. From all the stupid, mind-boggling -

I had forgotten to ask Arn how that stupid door worked. I could not let my breakfast in. And maybe, I could not even let myself out. Great, real great. After managing to turn the sonic off, I stumbled into the room. The door had fallen silent, but my stomach rumbled angrily instead. Hurriedly, I got dressed. It felt strange to be completely dry after having a shower, and it would take some getting used to. The upside was, that my hair didn't drip all over the place. Strange, it didn't fall into my eyes. Had the sonic an inbuilt hairdresser? I tried to run my hand thorough it.

It stood on end. That explained, why I felt so tingly all over and why it did not hang into my face as usual. I tried to smooth it down some, but it was rather reluctant. Those sonic were a gothic girl's dream. Unfortunately, I had no time for that now. I just wondered fleetingly, if I could have a blueprint of one tattooed somewhere, so I could take it home with me. Hours of hairstyling reduced to a ten minute sonic. I'd be rich. And pretty.

Right now, though, I tried to open the door, but it did not react to approaching, or to touching, or simple commands. Ensign Arn would be so proud of me: late again, and managing to get locked into my own room. Good think the Grand Admiral himself was not seeing this. I powered up the computer. Not that I had the calm to fight my way though all the gibberish, I grabbed the pad.

"Appointment at the medbay in five minutes, you will be late. Turn right."

Now that was a big help. I wondered if throwing the pad against the door would help any. Art least, the pad might shut up. I punched random buttons that looked as if they had something to do with communication. Finally, the face of a young officer filled the screen. He looked worried as soon as he saw me.

"State position and type of emergency."

Or maybe that was his profession. Oh dear. Arn would have me for breakfast. "Ms Mellanna Morrison," I said trying hard not to turn fiercely red. "I just wanted to call Ensing Arn, actually. I - I locked myself in."

The officer looked at me, ready to grab though the screen and throttle me. Good thing they didn't use Sith on the other end of the emergency line. Though it might put a rather sudden stop to pranks.

"And why are you calling here, then? This is not a game, ms Morrison. Use Arn's personal comm code and -"

"I can't," I interrupted him before he could finish and cut the connection.

"You don't have his code?"

"I am not sure," I licked my lips nervously. "Anyway, I don't know how to use the pad as communicator or my terminal, and I can't get anywhere for help because, " I swallowed, "I don't know how to open the door." Blasted door.

He was good, alright. I just _knew_ he wanted to rotfl by now, but he kept a straight face. Almost. Instead he checked something I couldn't see. Finally, he returned his attention to me.

"I will connect you to Ensign Arn now. But should you call here a second time with no emergency at your hands, you will have to suffer the consequences."

I nodded. No problem. How much worse could it get anyway? "Thank you. It will not happen again."

At lest not, if Arn showed me how to comm him, how to open the door, and how to read. He frowned at me sternly when his face came up.

"You are already missing appointments again, Ms Morrison," he chided. "What _is_ the problem?"

I swallowed again. "Well, I forgot to ask how you got the door open, and then I didn't know how to comm you, so I just - punched some buttons until I had commed anybody."

He looked about to do a 'headdesk: repeat'. Seemed he had severely understated the stupidity of his charge, I felt somewhat sorry for him. "Have you deactivated the night lock-down?"

"The what?"

"Night Lock Down. It automatically locks the door for the night, thus keeping sleepwalkers confined and unwanted visitors out. You deactivate it in the morning using your terminal or pad."

"Oh. Good. How?"

It turned out that all I had to do was turning my computer on, and log onto the system. Then my daily schedule would automatically be updated and the nightly lockdown was off. I just hoped that it also was down automatically in case of emergency. The image of hundreds of Imperials trying to hurry to help and running into locked doors was - hilarious, actually.

"Thank you," I said. "How can I comm you directly next time?"

"I'll show you once you show up here. Pronto."

"Aye, Sir." The connection broke and I hurried off. The door opened without complaint and my pad guided me faithfully to the mad bay. For once, I was happy about the guidance. I was still blind without my contacts, and would probably have gotten lost even had I known the way. Everything looked very alike on this ship and without clear-cut contours it was more or less a grey blur.

To my amazement, I did not wind up in the med room I had been in already, no the place looked suspiciously like an operating theatre and I had the bad feeling I was supposed to be starring the staged play.

Arn stood there, talking quietly with the medics, and looking at some kind of roentgen pictures. I wondered what I had that would need to be operated, I knew of nothing. Maybe, they wanted to give me an extra brain, no complaints there. Frankenstein's Monstress, I could do that.

"Ms Morrison," Arn greeted me. "You are late, so just a short briefing. You will now have your eyes redone, your teeth put straight and there is a spinal disc slightly askew in your spine which will be straightened out before it can cause any trouble. Follow medic Greras and have the anesthetisation. I'll collect you again in the afternoon."

Come again?

Greras took my arm and led me off before I got out a word. We passed a group of serious looking medic, that seems only to eager to cut me up, and then it was redressing again and lying down on the operation table. I have never been operated before, and I was not too keen on the experience. The Empire had a lot of very advanced technology, so I just hoped that they considered this a routine procedure.

I stared up into half-hidden strange faces. Then something cold exploded at my throat and things started to fade out.

"Ouch?" I volunteered half-heartedly, before everything went dark.

And that is the reason, I didn't update here.


	14. 014

Fourteen

I awoke and could not open my eyes. It took me some time to realize that, and the reasons for it. A quick check of my body brought up no pains at all, I felt amazingly well for somebody who had just had intrusive medicine or whatever that was called. I wondered if that was a good sign of work excellently done, or a bad sign of alleged work not done at all but -something different. I was getting a paranoia already. Good work, Empire.

The reason I couldn't get my eyes open, was some squishy thing that was probably a special bandage. It allowed for some movement of my lids, but not opening them. I sighed.

"She is awake now," a voice said, and somebody approached.

"How do you feel?" It was Arn.

"Can't see a thing, but otherwise I feel no different from before." My voice was slightly hoarse and I wished for something to drink suddenly. Not enough to ask Arn for it, though.

"The bandage will be removed in a few minutes," he replied. Now that I was not distracted by his uniform, I realized he had a nice voice, too. Self-assured, reassuring and with a nice timbre. Perfect to put you at ease, actually. But right now, I did not question that, I rather liked being put at ease.

"And then?"

"Considering your state, there will be a light training, and since you can still hear fine, a differentiation of alarms that can occur, so you don't mix up those and are generally in the way. More than you are anyway."

I sighed.

"After lunch your eyes should have adapted. In case you get headaches from the new vision, you can get medication for that." He paused. "There will be more reading and writing exercises and lessons in history and Imperial protocol."

_Ouch._ I was not a fan of protocol. But maybe they would teach me how to salute, that would be nice. Not that I was in any way involved with the military here.

"Okay. Will you teach me how to comm somebody, too?"

"An icon has been put on your pad, with which you can comm me. That is sufficient for now."

"If you say so. When are we due to arrive at Myrkr? Do I have to do anything? I would like to see an ysalamir-" I stopped myself. I could not see _anything_ right now. Too bad. "Well, I guess, I'll get to see them soon enough."

There was no reply from Arn for the longest time. Maybe he was not informed about the current destination, or just counterchecking. Or finding out if I was planned for anything. Not that there would be much excitement around: no meeting of Karrde, no Mara around, let alone Luke.

I put my head in my hands, and only the bandage over my eyes kept me from automatically rubbing them hard. This was all a mess.

"You will not be required for the current mission," Arn suddenly spoke up again. "Your schedule will remain unchanged."

I sighed. Then steps approached and after a short exchange, the bandage was slowly taken off. I felt like Han after the carbonite at first, I saw nothing. Then, I began to see light blobs and darker blobs that had different shades of something that was not yet a colour, but more than just contrast. I got a headache immediately.

After complaining, I got a small bottle with pills, that I stashed away in one of the many pockets of the jumpsuit. Yes, I had gotten that back, too. And to my surprise, the light training was indeed light. Probably to spare my back, provided they actually did something there. Something that was not inserting a tracker, or what have you.

My paranoia was thriving, soon I would be fit for conspiracy theories and all that. And I was here only about a week. A whole week. By now people at home had to worry. I swallowed, trying to push the thought away. I could not keep moping around here forever, could I? I was now part of the Empire and whathaveyou and there was no time for weak moments like that. Breathing deeply, I tried to convince myself that not thinking about it was the right way to deal with it. At least, until I was alone in my quarter.

The lesson in alarms was fun. There was so much that could happen to you in space. The ship could be under enemy fire, just be on fire, have a hull leak, a reactor leak, a reactor overload, reactor malfunctions, life support malfunctions, engine malfunctions, hostile individuals on the loose, I was just amazed they didn't have one for 'ship under water' just in case.

After a while, I could keep the most important ones apart, though for me, about all of them spelled 'get your sorry ass to the next staging area.' Only 'enemy fire' entailed 'call Arn' as well. I would get along, provided, my pad told me where the nearest staging point was.

All the while, my eyes were indeed getting better. Grey blobs turned into uniformed people, or into a bit of bulkhead, my lunch turned out fine, if a bit indistinct. And the history lesson - well it was no good idea to teach me about the rise of the Empire. I mean, I am all for clones, they look great and there's no lack, but all that propaganda of Palps was grating on my nerves.

"Do you really believe that?" I finally burst out. "Do you really believe, Palpatine wanted to save the Republic from the Jedi? They were a obstinate bunch of blockheads sitting in an ivory tower, but no danger! With that stupid code of them , they were about to wipe out themselves."

Officer Seros looked at me unbelieving.

"Oh, come on! Palps was a Sith Lord for crying out loud. Of course he wanted to wipe out the Jedi. Sith and Jedi just don't get along well."

"Don't you dare call the Emperor," he had to swallow, "Palps again."

Oh my, I had hurt his feeling, or something. But I was so used to this shortening. It was probably better he was dead and gone. I could already see myself calling him Palps publicly. The last word I'd ever utter.

"And you have no proof for those allegations. None of which are new."

"'Course not," I mumbled. "Palps- patine made sure there was not enough evidence around to prove who he was and where he got Vader from. He was a clever ba- olitician and covered all his tracks. But whatever you say, he was never, never a benevolent leader of a misguided people." I shook my head. "He wanted power, grabbed it and in the end lost it again, because nobody can see all the ends. And he wiped out the whole Jedi order, complete with children."

"Anakin Skywalker did that," Sroes interjected stiffly. "It is well known, and he died by the hands of Kenobi later."

"Erm, yes." I didn't really know what to say, after all, I didn't want to end up in a fight with him. "So we all get what we deserve in the end. Very nice."

"I don't think your attitude towards the Empire is adequate."

"Why? Because I think that Palpatine was a - suboptimal leader and that many of his policies were megalomaniac nonsense? I much prefer this kind of Empire, with somebody rational at the helm. At lest, you know where you're going then."

"Do you? Do you really?"

I considered it for a moment. Without me, the Empire was headed down the drain: Daala, Disra, Zsinj, not to mention Trioculus. And where was it going with me? I should like to see a real Empire of the Hand, but would I get there? Would Thrawn go there? Or would he take back the Empire's old space first and take things from there? That was not such a nice vision.

But how should peace and coexistence be possible, when he was actually about to win the war? Could I make two stubborn governments do as I please? No. Probably not even if I called on the Vong-threat for help, provided anybody believed me. Where were those stupid skeletons, anyway?

I looked at Seros. "Unfortunately, I do. And that's what I want to change."

You can't imagine the berating following that. I might as well have thrown a cat into a microwave, he went boom like one. I had to listen to quite a lot before I was allowed to slink back to my quarters and write up a summary on Imperial history _as it should be_!

And that is the reason, I didn't update here.


	15. 015

Fifteen

The monotone beep of the alarm dragged me out of sleep. I wanted my own alarm clock back. Sulking I got up, soniced and unlocked the door by using my pad. Just in time to let my breakfast in. I grabbed my pad, hoping to convince the door to open with it somehow. It worked, too. I approached my door and it opened. Just like that.

I looked rather surprised at the man standing on the other side, but automatically took the tray. Breakfast seemed to be some kind of toast, tea and fruit salad. Of course, my assessment of the food might be off completely. I had just finished cleaning my teeth, brushing was not a word that described the action anymore, when the door rang again.

This time it was Arn, and he did not like my sulk.

"Rise and shine?" He offered.

I grumbled something unarticulated. Even if it was seven by now, my mood was still arguing that I as already awake for an hour. Blasted alarm.

"You should work on your attitude if you want to last, Ms." It was amazing how well he could switch gear between friend and supervisor, it didn't even show. But even seeing all those obvious signs why he had to baby-sit me, was not enough to make me resent them. Damn good choice indeed.

"I want my alarm clock back," I said, rerouting the conversation.

"Why?"

"It shouted me out of bed in Klingon."

"I can shout you out of bed." He seemed to find the idea amusing, but then, so did I.

"Go ahead then. I hate this beeping."

"Let's see, if you can earn it." He gestured towards the door.

I pretended to consult my pad, and he shook his head exasperated.

"Just trying," I apologised. "Training first, then check-up. Lunch, lessons, training, dinner, studies, endex."

He indicated the door with his head, and I passed him by, tempted to stick my tongue out. For once I had done some reading and memorising the evening before. And t felt good, to keep Arn a little busy, even if it was nothing big. Small things to make my day. I did not have much else.

"Say, " I wanted to know while I followed him through the maze of corridors, " do you have to keep an eye on me twenty-four-seven now?"

"I have a day off after every five days."

I calculated shortly. "Then you'll be around, when we arrive at Wayland. Good, wouldn't want to be alone then. But what am I to do on my 'free' day?"

"Something that does not require you to move around much?"

"Thanks, Ensign, I worked that out on my own. But You never told me if there was a kind of recreation zone or something here."

"I don't think that letting you mingle with the regular crew is a good idea," he began.

"Oh, please? I would like to see how Imperials are in general. I promise not to bite."

"No." It was a definite 'no', with no explanation attached. I sighed. No company except for a well-instructed Arn. This might not be fun at all. But then, who did I expect to see, really? Most people I'd have liked to meet were rebels, and though I should have liked to unhelmet Fett on sight, he was not even mentioned in the TTT, so very unlikely to be around at all.

"Believe me," Arn broke into my thoughts, "you don't have the time to socialise, anyway."

"Not even on my free day?"

He shook his head.

Now that was bad. Alone with a ship-load of Imperials and not allowed to see one of them. What would I do? Read? Somehow I doubted, that I would find something equally interesting to Timothy Zahn, or Terry Pratchett.

"Can I try the flight simulators?" It had to be worth a try. Those were aboard and, to me at least, a nice kind of distraction.

"I will see what I can do. But this is not a cruise, Ms. Morrison."

"I know, I know. It's just that I always wanted to try flying a TIE Interceptor for real. Or as real as it gets. Wouldn't want to shred the equipment."

"Not to mention yourself?"

"Oh, I'm probably much easier to replace than those."

"You _should_ work on your attitude if you want to last."

What did I care. The day was long and boring. Okay, educating, but who'd want to read about me learning to read aurabesh the hard way, or jogging badly around the gym, being barely able to lift the lightest weight? It was a busy, day, but all too boring. Still, it was long and exhausting and I was more than happy to finally drop into bed and sleep.

And this is the reason why I didn't update.


	16. 016

Sixteen

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for__ the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!!_

I was wide awake after the first syllables, and if the bunk had not been constructed so conveniently with a handbreadth of space between my had and the ceiling, I would have knocked me right back into sleep. My heart was pounding in my ears, and I felt adrenaline course through my whole body. Wow.

"Impressive," I murmured, "most impressive."

Then I jumped out of bed, punched my pad into the comp and jumped under the sonic. I managed to get myself and my teeth clean before breakfast arrived. Quite something. The reading lessons showed first results, it took me only a minute to find my schedule, the first agenda item of which was breakfast/lesson.

_Lessons in breakfast__? My kind of education exactly._ I stepped out of the room humming, listening to the pad with one ear. I had been in that room before and almost found it without help again. The door opened as I approached. This would need some thought later. Something made the doors open, but it was not genetics or such. But my train of thought changed direction immediately, since the room sported a table with breakfast - and a holo of Arn.

"Good morning," I beamed.

"You seem in a good mood. I take the new alarm suits you?"

"It's no Klingon," I grinned, "but very effective."

"Let's hope the effect doesn't wear off."

"Oh, I can make you a list of people, I always wanted to be shouted out of bed by," I said, taking a slice of bread.

"We will not send out messages to random people, asking them to shout a wayward vixen out of bed for us."

I shrugged. "Your choice. So, will you stand there all day, or join me?" I asked, grabbing another slice. "Fill yer boots."

"Your boots?"

"Mando saying," I explained chewing. "Forgot how it goes in Mando though."

He rolled his eyes in a way expressing that I was clearly a hopeless case and he did not appreciate being stuck with me. Then the holo winked out. Instead the screen lit up, showing holonews. Wonderful. This was almost like home breakfast before work with my fave morning show. Only that the usual moderators were missing. I wondered, if Thrawn was having breakfast, too. The image of him sitting at a breakfast table in pyjamas with a newspaper came unbidden, and I choked on my food, when I tried to swallow and snigger at the same time.

The news, if that's what is was seemed rather biased, and instead of a New Republic, there were still rebels aplenty, obviously occupying Imperial City and planning to take over the Empire. _Snort_. They already had, and were doing a good job of it, too. Provided somebody shot Fey'lya any day soon.

At least, I was in the right mood, when the table suddenly rolled off and I was faced with Officer Seros again. He was not completely happy with my account of Imperial history, but he would let it slip. This once. Next topic, fall of the late Emperor. This was not very subtle, if even I caught its drift, but maybe it was not even meant to.

"The fleet didn't know what to do. With the Emperor dead, and Vader, too, there was nobody to take command of them. Especially, since the Emperor's binding effect in the Force was gone."

Seros' head twitched just noticeably. He did not like that notion. Well, he was not alone with it.

"It does work. Jedi even have some kind of battle meditation to boost their fighting power," told him. "Though I would advise strongly against trying it with a dark Jedi. They're unpredictable, and even with the Ysalamir around, hard to control."

"The Grand Admiral's plans are his alone." Seros lectured me.

"Fine, but if _his_ plans get _me_ killed, I will take exception." Seros had no humour. His face colour changed to a nice dark red and hurt loyalty bled from him, almost drowning me. Where was Arn when you needed him? "I like your Grand Admiral, " I tried to calm Seros down again. "But I'd also like to stay alive to like him some more."

That did not improve his mood. Whatever Seros had read into my words, it obviously translated another affront. Some people. Fortunately, my pad intervened, beeping loud and demeaning that I move my sorry ass to the next point on the agenda. I followed it to the gym, but right then, it was a lot better than facing yet another angry Imperial. I seemed to have a knack of annoying them.

I wheezed my way though the exercises, realizing again, why I so much preferred to write about physical exertion than doing it myself. If God had wanted me to sprint several klicks while jumping hurdles, he would have given me a taste for it. Instead, he'd given me a taste for chocolate. In my opinion, that said it all. Only, that chocolate might just be a rare commodity here.

With that in mind, I had to realize that lunch was indeed completely lacking on the chocolate side. And in fact, so had all my culinary experiences here so far. That didn't bode well. I kept my eyes open and spent the rest of the day looking for signs of chocolate.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	17. 017

Seventeen

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

I opened my eyes, a mad grin on my face. Aye, sir.

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

My fave part by far. The triplet was as crispy military as they get. And the way he stressed the 'not' reminded me of Pellaeon's first lines in HttE. _I'm in the army now._

_Move it!!_

_Okay, you convinced me_. I sat up, dangling my legs shortly over the side of my bunk. It was obviously made with somebody taller in mind. I wondered if those did bang their heads on the low ceiling then. Slotting the pad into the comp to update while I soniced and cleaned my teeth was almost routine, still the door rang sooner than I thought.

Iran the comb through my hair approaching the door, and then ran into it almost headfirst. Right, there was some thinking still to do there. I stared at the door, as if it would help any. They did open of their own volition, I just didn't know how.

Coincidence saved my day. The pad beeped its readiness at me and suddenly, I got the strangest idea. Carefully, I skidded the pad towards the door.

It opened.

Now that was a neat trick. It certainly got you where you needed to be and also made sure you didn't wander into places you didn't belong. Which would be very likely considering how similar everything here looked. But if the door didn't open, you didn't belong there. Nice one.

The pad had come to a halt at the wheels of a service droid that held my breakfast. No dining out today, too bad. I took the tablet, picked up the pad and returned to my desk. Food in the morning. What was not to love about that? To my amazement, it was something completely different for the other breakfasts I had gotten.

It seemed to be some kind of tea and a cake formed like - well it did resemble a boot.

The tea was as strong as it smelled and taking a sip of it made me feel as if my eyes got squeezed out through me ears via my mouth. Highly interesting, but kinda enjoyable. Any tea that tasted like a kick in your face was worth something.

The cake was white, very soft and over-the-top sweet. I bit into it, and my heart almost immediately stopped due to sugar-overkill. It was even worse that French or Spanish mass produced stuff. The nut-topping might have been a counterweight, but it was glued to the dough with so much sticky sweet stuff that it only compounded the overall sweetness.

Grabbing the tea, I took a big swallow to down the indomitable mass but to no avail. The feeling of having my eyes squeezed out returned, only that now they had to pass through that cake-mass, too. Not good.

When I had finally gotten the stick mass down my throat, I began to wonder what message Arn was trying to send me here. Something I have said must have gotten him wrong. I tried to call back our conversations, while I kicked myself in the teeth repeatedly by sipping more of the tea. But there was nothing about cake.

I poked the soft dough, almost gluing my finger to the topping. There had been something about boot, though. _Fill yer boots._ From all I knew (which was debatable) this might just be uj-cake. I unstickied my finger and carefully licked of some icing. Over-the-top sweet, no doubt, but was it Mando? Would make sense overall.

So Arn was not happy with my probable affection for Mandos. Good to know, I might need to pull that on him some other time. I washed the remaining icing off my finger in the tea and swallowed the rest of it in one go. It was almost a good idea, and if you were not awake after that, you were probably dead.

I grabbed my pad, ready to go, and stopped just before I hit the door running. I head no instructions! I peered at the pad, deciphering my schedule, but no, nothing. Carefully, I approached the door, which actually did open, but still only silence from my pad. I had a very bad feeling about this.

Tentatively, I turned right, and took a few steps. The silence was almost deafening now, and yes, it seemed that I would have to find the way on my own now. Oh, joy. Why hadn't anybody told me? I might just have paid attention to where I had went the last few days. I would certainly be late again and Ensign Arn would chide my attitude and be generally exasperated about me.

I wanted home. At least, I knew where to get a map - okay, brain back online. I keyed for a floor plan on my pad, and with something that was suspiciously similar to google-maps, got a nice way mapped out. Lesson learned. Now I only needed something to vent.

I got to vent in the gym. Somebody had thought it a good idea to keep me occupied with things that needed more thought than running circles, jumping hurdles and failing to climb up a rope. Martial arts were fine with me, as was close combat. And, for once, Arn took it on himself to teach me. What can I say? He does look a lot better in his uniform than in a training jumpsuit.

I had the satisfaction of being able to wriggle out of most tight situation as I was used to until Arn realised how bendable my joints really were and almost dislocated my shoulder. Lesson learned. I had enough prior knowledge to make things fun, though Arn did shoot me one of those strange glances when I asked for two sticks to serve as swords. He never heard of sinawalis before either. I managed to get the concept of a redonda across using two towels, but it was less than impressive. With a sigh I gave up. Swords seemed more than outdated here.

Suddenly, I felt the wish to be stranded with Luke. He did have a sword, and would probably stoop to play with me for a little. I wondered what he might be doing right now, if he was still on Bimmisaari.

"Dreaming, Ms. Morrison?" Arn's voice brought me back into the gym.

I nodded absent mindedly. _Luke_.

I hugged myself. "What if I can never go back?" I asked Arn.

It is impossible to say how he changed from crisp Imperial officer to nice guy from next door in a moment. I must have looked rather desperate, because he managed perfectly. Putting his arm around my shoulder, he led me away. "It will all turn out right in the end. You will see."

I just wished to believe him, but right then, I couldn't even lay my head on his shoulder and cry. It was much to bad for that. There were two rattan sticks behind my living room door that I just couldn't throw away because sinawalis were great fun. There were two degus on the other side of the door wondering why they were fed by my sister; two pillows on my bed, and one smelled of my boyfriend, two siblings wondering, two parents worrying -

I inhaled sharply, shaking off Arns arm and fighting back the lump in my throat. "I'd like my shirt back one day," I informed him striding of with a confidence I was far from feeling. Officer Seros and his twisted view of the empire were next, and I was so busy keeping a tight grip on myself that I barely contradicted him. He seemed rather happy about his conversion work, too.

I got through the day okay, ignoring the questioning glances of Arn. I was in this alone, and no well-meaning but bought Imp could change that. I didn't want somebody who cared because it was his job. I wanted somebody who cared. When I returned to my room, my blue shirt with the moronic dormouse waited for me. I hugged it close, curled up around it on my bunk and allowed myself to finally break down.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	18. 018

Eighteen

_I ran through the corridors of the ship, and Arn is after me. He's __waving a boot filled with uj-cake, the nuts clearly visible in the opening on top. Pictures of Thrawn frown down at me from all walls, and I hurry past them. I know everything will explode, should he do that eye-flicker-thing. My sister is in the galley. _

_"Stop this nonsense and do something important." She hands me a ladle._

_I turn to stir the huge pot behind me, but Christopher Walken is standing there instead. He shrugs apologetically._

_"I know I'm completely miscast as C'baoth, complain to Lucas." He ignites his lightsaber, and so do I. As the blades clash, I am distracted by the picture of Thrawn. His eyes flicker and everything blows apart in light and white noise._

_._

_._

I sat bolt upright in the dark silence. The pounding of my heart was audible over the soft humming of the engines, and my gaping breath rasps in my ears. Somehow I had managed to entangle my feet in the blanket. Feeling for my precious shirt, I finally find it on the floor. I held it close and tried to calm down.

Would this never end. Nightmares; I rarely had those at home, but they seemed to abound here. I burrowed my nose in the shirt, but it smelled foreign, laundered and dried aboard the Chimera. I could hardly expect them to use the same washing powders as I did. With a sudden, I remembered the bedding I had recently used for the guest bed. It had been at my parents like forever, when I had fluffed them up for use, the scent of my parent's home had engulfed me.

The memory hurt even more now. Cuddling the shirt, I got a grip on myself. No need to go overboard with sorrow already in the early morning of my free day. I took a few deep, measured breaths. _How late might it be?_

Why did I not end up on the Enterprise? All I would have had to do was say 'time' and I would have gotten it. But no, I had to end up in the Empire. Nifty designs and crisp company, but the technology left a lot to be desired. With a sigh, I rolled out of the bed peered at the clock of the terminal. _Almost six._ Much too soon to get up on your free day. I dropped back onto my bunk, still cradling the shirt.

Maybe I should make myself a little plushie. I knew how to make an _ich-bin-ich_ by heart. Would anybody notice, if I cut squares out of my jumpsuits? Too bad Vader was not around. I bet his cape made perfect little plush-

_Good morning Slacker._

If that was not my personal annoyance. Whatever he might want from me on his free day. And mine.

_Did you think we'd just let you __bum around on your 'free' day? Well, you can, but Sergeant Toris is expecting you at eight sharp in simulation cluster three._

It was amazing how Arn was able to pronounce inverted commas around a word. I rubbed my eyes and rolled around on the bed. _Decisions, decisions_. But eight sharp meant I had about two hours now. I jumped out of bed and decided to have a real shower for a change.

The feeling of hot water on my face was incredible. I stood savouring it for a long time, and for the first time in my life, I managed to shower so long that my fingers got all wrinkly. I didn't even mope over the missing tub until I was finished and mopping up the water. I wondered if anybody on this ship had a tub, and what I would have to do to be allowed to use it.

There was no breakfast to be seen anywhere when I finished cleaning my teeth. I grinned. That gave me the exact excuse to look for the refectories, maybe I could smuggle myself into the officer's mess. I punched the pad into the comp and made it map me a way; google.imp was a really convenient feature.

Still, I didn't get far. A droid stood in my doorway patiently, holding a tray with breakfast. Such a bugger. I took the tablet and watched as the droid trundled off. At least, it seemed to be back to bread and tea. I sipped the latter carefully, but it turned out to be the normal kind. What a disappointment. Maybe I should ask for the face-kicking version when I saw Arn again.

Falling back into my usual routines, I almost managed to be late for the flight simulation. I had to hurry to reach cluster number three in time. That ship was even bigger than my university, and I managed to get lost even there - in the library.

Sergeant Toris turned out to be a gnarly guy that seemed to glare at you out of habit. There was always something you did, or would do, so you'd deserve it in the end. He was the first Imperial I really saw who seemed to be over forty, Thrawn excepted.

"You are late, Cadet Morrison," he chided me as a greeting. Very military that one. I would probably like him.

"Good morning to you, too, sir," I replied, inclining my head. It was naturally the wrong thing to say. But no matter what I said to any Imperial, it was _always_ wrong, so why even try?

"Don't you know how to address your superior officer correctly?" Toris snapped.

"Um," I considered that for a moment, "no, I don't have clue."

If he had just been on the edge of exploding, that admission seemed to catch him completely off guard. He measured me up and down, shaking his head disapprovingly. Finally he harrumphed.

"You say 'sir, yes, sir' and that is all you will need when talking to me, understood?"

I smiled brightly, remembering that routine from somewhere. "Sir! Yes, sir!" I bellowed happily. This might be fun. Especially, if I managed to keep to just this sentence in really all situations. Oh, I love the military.

"Have you ever flown an Imperial fighter before?" he wanted to know.

This was too good. "Sir! Yes, sir," I replied crisply, probably grinning like a maniac.

Toris only cocked his head, rolling his eyes. "You may vary that with 'sir, no, sir' in case of need, Cadet."

I nodded. "Sir, yes, sir! Sir, _no_, sir!" Being in the army was really more fun than I had expected.

"In that case we start at zero. Any complaints?"

"Sir! no, sir!"

He nodded, apparently satisfied that I was just following orders down to the letter when I was trying to get a point across with it. I followed him to a simulator which was a far cry from sitting in front of a computer. It was very much like the capsule shown in the TIE-Fighter game, and true to the original I had to climb in from the top. Toris stuck his head in, pointing me to various important controls. Some were pretty much where I expected them from the game, but when you had a whole cockpit of space to fill with knobs and levers - and if you _did_ that, too - well, there was much I still had to learn.

It was hard going, and to make things worse, everything was labelled in aurebesh. That language would probably haunt me as long as I was here. Soon my head was swimming with information. The first dry runs went well enough, I guess. I kept mixing up left and right, but that was nothing new. What was new, was the fact that I mixed up and down, too. It was that blasted steering stick. I would get used to it again. I hoped.

Still, I got to do some test flights before it was time to eat. Not that I was in any way hungry. The simulation was better than any rollercoaster! The movements if the cabin were as wild as I flew, and I soon had to fly a bit more careful, because my stomach objected. The tunnel-runs were sweet. I clanged and banged the poor ship against the tunnel walls lie a drumstick. Several times, I didn't even manage the first few yard before it fell apart. In open space it was better. I had little to fly against, but even then I managed to run into a container I had been ordered to use a cover. In reality, I would have ended up covering a big portion of it instead.

But it was such great fun! I was looking forward to the second half of my day. Toris had promised some 'real' training for me. I stared at the remains of my lunch. Strange, it hurt a bit that this was just a game. I would have preferred to be a regular under Toris, get the real drill and all. But again, I was just tolerated because. I poked my dessert listlessly. Being a kept woman did not agree with me at all.

I was back at the simulators a lot sooner than planned. After even dessert had lost its appeal, I had just returned and now stood gawking at the different simulators. I gawked especially long at the one for shuttles. I would so love to see one of those from the inside one day. I let my hand wander over the controls longingly. Not that I thought Thrawn would let me out into space at all. It was all just games.

But they were fun. After a little recap, I was allowed to get into the simulator again and try some sims. Those were fun, at least as long as I was allowed to fly alone. I have never been any good with formations. And again, I did badly with them. Maybe I would not make a good pilot after all.

The final treat, was a treat indeed. I was integrated in a real patrol, flying wingwoman with two other pilots. I didn't get a nifty helmet for the communications, though. Something about many functions to the helmet and me being overtaxed already. Whatever. I got something pinned to my head instead and off we went.

Luckily, you don't have to fly your TIE out of a ship, you get half shot, half placed by tractor beam and thus cannot fly into the hull accidentally. I got the feeling that the Empire had had more cadets like me than it let on. I managed to keep in formation okay. After a while, all Alpha had to do was sigh and I knew I was off-key again.

Suddenly, enemy fighters appeared. I surprised myself by staying in formation until told to attack the incoming ships. Then I broke off, targeted the first fighter and went for him. For whatever reason that manoeuvre seemed to take the enemy by surprise. They broke formation before I got off a good shot. I tailed the right one on a whim, and it was hard fun not to be shaken off.

When Alpha called in for help, I obediently changed course again to clear him. I tried to fly in at them at a right angle which was more difficult than it had any right to be. Finally, I managed, but I was too close already. Additionally, I was so cranked up, that I hit the fire-button on my steering stick as soon as the first ship flew by. It was my luck that my relexes were so slow that I didn't Alpha, and the bolt hit the pursuing enemy instead, throwing it off it's course. Beta was there in a heartbeat, blasting him to pieces.

By the time I had gotten myself back to the fighting scene, the other attackers had been taken care of by my colleagues already. I tried to slip back into formation and tagged along again. So much for the fun part. At least, I had not been -

- red lights flooded my cockpit, and the last I saw was new red dots on my back display.

I was swearing to myself, when the capsule opened. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The look on Sergeant Toris face did not look any happier, either.

"Of all the mind-boggling stupid manoeuvres I have ever seen, and I have seen many, this clearly takes the cake!"

Seems I did even worse than I had thought. "Sorry," I said forgetting completely about the sirs and all.

"You do _NOT_ simply fly straight into the face of the attackers," Toris shouted at me. "Do you understand?"

I nodded sheepishly. In the game it had always worked well enough.

"What do you say, Cadet?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" I replied without thinking. But did that mean now that I understood or that I wouldn't do that again. Probably both.

"Your can't fly formation, your aim is off and your reflexes are a catastrophe," he went on. "Do you still think you belong into one of the Empire's fighters?"

I stopped. Did I? I surely wanted back into the simulator. It was a dream come true, being able to fly, nothing but me and space -

"Sir! Yes, sir!" I yelled with conviction.

Toris glanced me over again, obviously thinking. "Dismissed!"

I saluted as well as I could, turned on the heels and tried to march off. Not that I knew how to march.

"See you next week."

I spun around, clicked my heels and saluted again, feeling my mad grin return. "Sir, yes, _sir_!"

My marching probably looked a lot more like capering after that, but I didn't care. If this was my new weekend occupation, I would not complain. I bounced back to my quarter, shoved dinner into my face and leaved a bit through the library, mostly pages with a lot of pictures. It would have been over the top wonderful if I had had a tub to jump in.

But I dropped into bed happy enough. And that is the reason I didn't update.

* * *

Note: If you have no idea what an _ich-bin-ich_ is, you can look at one here:

lichtinsdunkel.orf.at/dateien/1593MiraLobeIchbinIch.jpg


	19. 019

Nineteen

The next day came with unsavoury surprises. No, not the alarm, Arn did a good job shouting me out of bed and almost straight into the gym, with only short detour for breakfast and sonic. No face-kicking tea again, though. I would have to complain. But first, I would have to complain about sudden changes in my schedule I was not being informed of.

I only got almost to the gym because Arn intercepted me halfway there. He looked refreshed and I was a bit sorry for being such a nuisance. He was probably a very apt young officer, if Ensigns count as officers already, and suited much better to do more military things.

"Good morning, sir." I saluted.

"Good morning to you too, Ms. Morrison," he replied smiling. "I take it your day off was fine."

"Very much so, Sir, can't wait for the next."

He chuckled when I called him 'sir.' "I see Sergeant Toris has already taught you some procedure."

"Sir! Yes, sir!" I affirmed happily. "He is very good at shouting at you, too. So much of a cliché, that he's almost not credible."

"His report certainly was - interesting." Arn gestured down the corridor. "Ready for the next step?"

"If you consider integrating me into the Empire still, I'd like to see that report one day," I said, starting to move. "What is the next step?"

Well, it turned out to be a haircut. Yay. At least the Empire was friendly enough not to punish me with the usual guy's 'no hair, no trouble' kind of cut. Still it was decidedly too short, feeling my hair tickle my chin. I felt a bit like Prince Valiant, such an awful way to have one's hair. At least, I could dissuade the man with the scissors from cutting me a fringe and turn me into Prince Valiant's chubby twin. Maybe threatening to shove those scissors up painful places if he dared had something to do with his compliance; or the way Arn choked on his laughter, but didn't object.

Exercise was okay. I got some specialised agility lessons which would theoretically enable me to get into a TIE with light speed when there was a battle alarm. I passed on the occasion to mention I would never need that ability, because that might just have led back to circuit training. Hand-to-hand combat was fun again. I am a sucker for fighting in theory. Not so much in reality, but practicing was fun. Not that I had much of a chance against a well-trained guy in his early twenties. At least, not as long as I fought fair. But I controlled myself and Arn got out of the training session without major damage.

After lunch I had another meeting with Thrawn scheduled. Oh, joy. If I had ever hoped to impress him, I could really forget about that with my new hair cut. After all, the man had taste. I patted my inner fangirl on the disfigured head. She really did not get much out of this deal.

It was one of those cosy rooms again, and still I suspected that one wall was not what it pretended. I wouldn't let a Grand Admiral alone with a possible maniac. Though maybe he wore a bullet-proof vest or something. I managed to stop myself before really considering how an Grand Admiral's uniform opened to have a look and find out.

"I see, you are adapting well," he said, glancing at my hair.

"Oh, just gorgeous," I muttered, sitting down. "I'm doing my best, and Arn is doing a good job, too. Social contacts are lacking a bit, but I hope that might change one day, too." I smiled.

"Considering that your social skills will be as sub par as all your other abilities, I'd rather spare my crew."

That hurt. And I had the feeling that I had done rather well so far. No dead Imperials, only one enraged at my mere existence, though I might be able to console Seros. Somehow. Darn social skills.

"So you're going down to Wayland, today," I changed the topic quickly. "I'm not sure if it's procedure, but I suggest wearing body armour under the uniform."

Those glowing eyes surveyed me coldly, which probably meant that it _was_ Imperial procedure. Good move, go me! Maybe next time I would think before I opened my mouth. "Well, there's nothing else, really. No opposition and C'baoth can do nothing against the ysalamiri."

"Would you care to accompany the team?"

"No," I shook my head firmly, "no, I don't want to be there."

"How come you keep thinking you have a choice?"

I was close to flying off the handle. This guy was pushing all the wrong buttons; probably on purpose. "It is the way you keep phrasing things like questions," I snapped. "I make an effort of taking people's words at face value, so if you ask a question, I assume I have a choice."

Folding my arms over my chest I leaned back in my chair. "Besides, I already know what's going to happen down there, and actually, I don't want to see it. The mission will be a success, what more do you want?"

"Specifics."

"What for? You'll figure out C'baoth soon enough, after all you did so before and killed the original. You will find the lever to make him work for you, power is power, no matter which kind you prefer. He just likes his to be personal."

"I figured as much." The complete lack of body language was slowly beginning to freak me out. At least, he shifted his weight slightly, turning his torso in the process. "Your trust in my abilities is noted."

"Good," grumbled under my breath. "Would hate for you to think me too stupid to recognise intelligence when I see it."

"You were saying?"

"That I know what happens and right now I have no reason to worry the least. Outthinking the Republic is almost too easy for you," I repeated myself rather freely.

"You seem appreciative of education and intelligence," he observed.

"Intelligence makes sexy." My hand flew to my mouth but it was ages to late. How could I let _that_ slip? I felt myself blush to a Thrawn's-eyes-red, meaning I was actually glowing from inside. So much for thinking first.

"Indeed." At least, he seemed completely unimpressed by my _faux-pas_. So there was hope, though I didn't really know what for. With my hand in my mouth, I could hardly look down at it anymore. Instead, I peered at Thrawn, trying to gauge his response.

There it was again, that flicker. It was probably some kind of amusement. Suddenly, I wondered if I even saw it all. Wasn't there something about Chiss eyes seeing a different spectrum, too? What if these flickers were all different in nature, and I just didn't get it because I just saw the bit visible in my spectrum?

"You are a minute observer," the Grand Admiral's voice broke into my thoughts, making me realize I had been staring into his eyes for the batter half of eternity.

"Urmgrsrk," I got out. I was really showing great talent handling the Grand Admiral; I was impressed with myself.

"And the answer is no, you do not see the full scope." A calm amusement was in his voice.

"Um. Thanks." At least, I was back at using words. Give me another century, and I might be able to behave myself. I surely understood why he wanted to spare his crew my presence. I was close to banging my head against the desk. It wouldn't be able to do any more harm to my image than I had done already.

I was saved by an unknown Imperial who chose the very same moment to appear and announce everything was ready to go. I grabbed my chance and unceremoniously slipped out behind his back, nodding a short apology to the Grand Admiral. I am sure he could get the gist of my departure from the colour of my face. And if he needed details - who am I fooling, he had been there, after all.

My pad led my right back to Arn and more lessons, but I did not pay much attention. I wondered about Thrawn and the mission to Wayland. He would bring a Dark Jedi with him who, on top of that, was a clone and mad as a hatter. I did not approve. But then, I had nothing to do with C'baoth, and since I was not Force-sensitive, the chances were good that he would just ignore me.

I also was trying to feel less embarrassed, which worked less the more I tried, and it confused me so much that in the end I could think just straight enough to fall asleep on the bunk instead of the sonic.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	20. 020

Twenty

Off the days annoyances - Thrawn again. But I better start at the beginning. The day began very nice, after all. My breakfast included the teeth-kicking tea again and together with Arn shouting at me, it made a pretty perfect morning. I took a second to wonder where my lingering tiredness had vanished, too, and decided to blame it on the new diet.

In the gym somebody had been considerate without end and procured some sticks and it did not surprise me that Arn seemed acquainted with the idea of sinawalis suddenly. I felt pretty much pampered, even after he beat the Sith out of me. He had probably spent some time on practicing while I had to endure Officer Seros or the manipulating guy in white.

The latter had scheduled yet another meeting for today, and I wondered what had gone wrong on Wayland to demand that. I still loved Thrawn to tiny fangirly bits, but I was not sure how much I actually liked him. This was getting an increasingly difficult relationship. Well, only for me, of course. But if there was somebody able to find a way how to be a rabid fangirl of somebody who was actually a five-word ToS-violation starting with 'b', it was me. And in case it didn't work out, I could still change sides and go Mando. _Oya_.

Well, instead of Mando, I went native. Arn dressed me up in a real Imperial uniform after lunch and it was amazing to see myself in it. It looked - disturbing. But I had a nice Imperial Seal patched on my shoulder and a cap that was silly enough to distract from my horrible haircut. Wondering where the sudden change of clothes came from, I followed Arn. He seemed a bit nervous. Maybe I should have taken the hint, but I was too busy wondering.

Only when we stopped in a very foreign place aboard and he put a hand on my shoulder squeezing it slightly, I began to worry. He gave me an encouraging nod, and left. Turning to the door, I wondered if it was the short cut to vacuum or worse.

It was - a conference room; with a huge window and space for many people. Right then it was only occupied by Thrawn, and C'baoth. I suddenly got why Arn had been a bit upset and decided to be even more so. I grabbed a cup of whatever on my way towards them because it was always nice to have something to hold on to. Even if it was just a cup of a caffeine containing hot beverage. Glancing around, I finally spotted Rhukh, and indeed managed to walk on without gawking. He was quite a sight, even if he merged almost perfectly with the grey background.

No matter how much 'nightmare on legs' description was out there, and disregarding how true it was, Noghri were my Ewoks. The only reason I didn't feel the urge to pinch his cheeks was that they were so taut. It would probably need quite some effort to pinch anything on that bundle of sinews and muscle.

I sat down as far as politely possible from the two men, facing C'baoth. My fingers clenched around the cup, I didn't even feel if it was hot or not.

"Manners, Private Morrison," Thrawn chided me instantly.

"Oh, um." I let go off the cup, jumped up and clicked my heels together. "Private Morrison reporting as ordered!" I turned to nod at C'baoth. "Sir!" Then I sat down, putting my shaking hands around the cup again.

"Private Morrison, this is Jedi Master C'baoth," the Grand Admiral introduced me.

I managed to bow without letting go of the cup. "Master C'baoth."

He returned the bow with a curt not, curiosity shimmering in his eyes. I had a very bad feeling about this suddenly. I didn't like the way he looked at me. As if I was the reason we were here.

"I am pleased to meet you, Mellanna Morrison," C'baoth said softly. "Your presence in the Force is - unique."

To my own surprise I didn't run out with a yelp. What was that nutcase implying? I was as Force sensitive as toast, probably even less. "I have a presence in the Force?" I looked from Thrawn to C'baoth and back, but the former seemed to enjoy simply to watch and the latter watched me too intently.

"Master C'baoth picked it up even before we arrived in the hangar," Thrawn explained, and I could swear there was that flicker in his eyes again. "That you are as surprised by this as everybody else, at least proves you were not trying to deceive us." There was an unspoken threat in this that I didn't like at all.

"A talent like yours should not be wasted," C'baoth decided. "It is to be expected that the Empire has forgotten how to identify such abilities. Emperor Palpatine made a clean sweep of the former Force users."

"But I cannot use the Force," I objected. "I cannot levitate anything or influence the minds of others." Except if annoying counted, too. I seemed to be a natural talent there.

"The gift is different for each of us," C'baoth told me. "You will soon find out what true power means."

Now he had me scared. True power meant controlling a person completely and that was something I neither wanted to experience nor do to somebody else. Since my only talent seemed to be annoying people, I decided to try that on C'baoth, hoping he'd reconsider. And hoping even more, the Grand Admiral would save my sorry ass in case of need.

"Oooh, yes I can use the Force," I mocked waving my arm. The cup clattered to the floor dutifully, but that might have been coincidence. Or not. It had been plain in the path of my arm.

"I feel the Force around you eddying in strange currents," C'baoth insisted.

I glanced at Thrawn, but he shook his head minimally. Bugger. Did he really mean to dump me with that nutcase? Unbelievable. "Well, maybe?" I volunteered. "A bit of training can't hurt?" Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the flicker in the Grand Admiral's eyes. So he was laughing his ass off in private. Just great.

"That will be wise," the dark Jedi lectured me. "I will expect you to -"

"Private Morrison cannot be extracted from her duties on my ship just like that, Master C'baoth," Thrawn interrupted him softly. "I will see to it personally, that her schedule is rearranged to include training with you as often as possible, though."

Grand Admiral Thrawn to the rescue! With a sudden I had joined the Imperial military and risen to the rank of a private. Not that I felt that anything I did here was very private at all.

"I would appreciate that," I agreed, hoping that C'baoth's activities and my schedule did not match well. Sooner or later he would be dispatched to Wayland again. "It would feel wrong to neglect my duties."

C'baoth eyed me as if he had just caught me with a lie, but he did not comment on it. "Your loyalty is commendable Mellanna, and," he threw a sideways glance at Thrawn, "surely appreciated. But there is more than one way to serve."

Certainly, but I didn't want to know them all, especially not those that led directly to C'baoth. I was rather attached to my mind and the remains of my sanity. And why was the person I liked least the only one in this universe using my first name? That bastard clone of a Sith.

"We will find appropriate practice venues for you," the Grand Admiral assured C'baoth, " and you will be able to take on the training of Private Morrison tomorrow."

A whole day of respite. I could have hugged the man to bits. Though it also meant I did have a whole day to worry. I just hoped that whatever C'baoth could do to me was not as bad as it could have been had I really been Force sensitive. I concentrated on the cup, tying to levitate it back to the table, but nothing happened. What a relief.

Suddenly, it sprang into the air, placing itself neatly in front of me again. I looked a C'baoth and he smiled knowingly. At least, it had not been me, _that_ would have been terrifying.

"I am looking forward to our next meeting," the Dark Jedi said. It was clearly a dismissal.

I glanced at Thrawn and he nodded imperceptibly. "I will return to my duties, then," I replied, standing up. I bowed to C'baoth, saluted Thrawn and made it out of the room. But as soon as the doors closed behind me, I began to shake. This was _not_, what I had in mind when thinking about coming here.

After a few steps, I leaned against the wall, putting my hands in front of my face and on my thighs in turn. This was more than I had bargained for, this was too much, I could nbot handle it. _C'baoth._ No, I couldn't.

Arn found me some time later, still glued firmly to the wall with my back. After the first shaking steps, he took my arm and led me to a kind of canteen. We didn't get a second glance, Arn got us some caf and a place to sit down.

It was a huge cup with a small amount of caf inside, but still that threatened to jump out any moment. I put the mug down again. I stared at Arn, but I could think of nothing to say. He smiled, lopsided, sadly, and patted my hand with the helpless gesture of a young man out of his depth.

"I'm so scared," I finally got out, spilling some of the caf over my brand new uniform.

"I know." He kept patting my hand, as if that was to calm him as even more than me. "I'll be there."

"If that will only be enough," I whispered. I managed to get the remaining caf into my mouth and swallowed.

His jaw moved as if he wanted to say something, when suddenly it dawned on him that I knew exactly what C'baoth was capable of, whereas he wasn't. Silently, he got up and brought me another cup of caf. "I'm sorry."

I folded my hands around the cup again, staring in silence.

And that is the reason I didn't update here...


	21. 021

Twenty-one

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for__ the Empire!_

I pulled the blanket over my head ignoring the rest of the message. Today, I would have to face C'baoth as a teacher. I was not ready. Dread the day... . Oh yes, I certainly was doing so. Not that it would help any. The only thing that could save me now was sudden death; preferably that of C'baoth.

I got up, hurried through the morning routine and arrived at the gym in a most grumpy mood. When cheering me up with a showy sinawali didn't work, Arn chased me through a most exhausting course, but I didn't even bother to complain. My mind was not nearly anywhere close to where my body currently sweated through another set of sit-ups.

In retrospect, I should not have been surprised that I showed up funnily in the Force. I didn't belong here and it was probably looking for a way to kick me out again, or maybe, even worse, for a way to adapt me. I wanted to go home. It was amazing how much homesickness a single Dark Jedi could provoke.

I made a list of things I would certainly amend and do better when I got home. It was pretty long by the time the exercises were over, and the more exhausted I got, the lower 'taking up sports again' dropped on it. Maybe the Empire could throw Darth Laziness out of my life here, but I had few illusions as to what would happen once there was no Ensign Arn to shout me through my day anymore.

Seros had much to his surprise been give the commission to lecture me on the history of Sith in the Empire. He was not pleased, and I seemed better informed anyway. Darth Maul, Dooku, Sidious and Grievous, it was a sad list and then there was always Vader left; and now C'baoth.

"I don't like it," I said. "Sith are always bad news, they are unreliable, and have no code to predict their actions. In the end, they are never worth the effort."

"Grand Admiral Thrawn has good reasons to have you instructed on this," Seros replied. "Caution is necessary."

"I'm not gonna be the next wannabe Darth Vader," I shook my head. "Funny Force or whatever, the day I get Force sensitive there will be -" I had wanted to say 'red Star Destroyers' but I caught me just in time. No need to tempt fate. "There will be pink TIE Fighters." Now that was a safer bet; after all Stacey was in the rebellion.

It didn't seem to calm Seros. He still kept a pretty distance, treading as careful as if I would strike him down with Force-lightning if annoyed. I must admit that it was an idea that would have been funny only a day ago, but right then, I even felt sorry for him. I knew how it felt to face a Dark Jedi and I didn't envy him. Only that his fearsome Sith was just me, which made it all a bit laughable.

Well, I didn't laugh then, and lunch with Arn was a rather silent matter, too. At least, my incorporation into the Empire made sure I got to eat in the common canteens now. It was nice to see so many real faces sticking out of the uniforms. It made the Empire a much more personal place.

"How many of them does one know on average?" I asked, looking around.

Arn followed my gaze. "It depends on how long you serve on the same ship, as well as you social skills." A smile tugged at his lips. "We might be deep in space, but living in such a confined place is in some ways very similar to living in any small village."

He looked as if he knew exactly what he was talking about, and I tried to imagine a tiny Arn growing up in a village somewhere in the outback of any planet. The little boy looked at the stars a lot, but somehow, I couldn't imagine him in civilian clothes.

"You never forget where you come from," big Arn broke into my thoughts. His face looked as if he had had rather similar thoughts just now. "It is really not so different, except," he winked, "that there were a lot more pretty girls in my village than aboard this ship."

"Don't you say," I chuckled. "I certainly do have an advantage here from that point of view." I had almost forgotten about C'baoth.

Too bad that my pad hadn't. It beeped shamelessly, ordering to get up and - yeah do something for the Empire. If keeping mad Sith occupied so they didn't bother the Grand Admiral was no service to the Empire, I didn't know what was. _They own you,_ I thought,_ body and soul. Better pray they keep your mind as well._

Arn accompanied me on the long way to doom. His silence seemed like a mix of respect for my nervousness and lack of anything helpful to say. But what could you say? No problem, Mel, if he tries any mind tricks, I'll notice? Arn was not Luke. C'baoth could probably take over my whole head without him noticing.

Oh. No.

"What worries me most," I broke the silence, "is the possibility that he takes over my mind and I end up doing things I don't want to and don't remember." I stopped and looked Arn in the eye. "If that happens, please shoot me."

He had to swallow. "It won't come to that."

"How do you know?"

"Besides we need you -"

"Shoot me in the leg first then; I'll tell you everything, but I'd rather be dead than C'baoth's puppet." I was ready to grab his shoulders and shake him.

"Okay." He laid an arm on my shoulder. "Okay, I promise. Better now?" He looked definitely unhappy.

I nodded. "You know, if you don't, I'll just kill you."

"No, you won't, he said, putting his arm around my shoulder, and leading me on. "You like me to well for that."

I didn't have the heart to tell him that Mara had been on and about to kill Luke, and she practically _loved_ him. At least, I could not handle a lightsaber, neither a blaster, let alone a bigger gun. The galaxy was pretty safe from me; at least as long as I was myself.

In front of the doors to doom, we exchanged a last glance, then we entered. The room was huge, a part of it obviously for sparring another part for lectures. C'baoth was sitting in the study corner, wearing what he supposed to be his benevolent teacher face. It was creepy.

We did not get far.

"Leave us," C'baoth waved at Arn and my personal Ensign turned on his heels and headed out. I was tempted to shout 'don't!' and grab his sleeve, but it would most likely have been in vain. And not a good start with C'baoth either.

I continued my way to the Dark Jedi, trying hard to be calm. _Like a bridge over troubled water - to bad that it was made up of pontoons. _Finally, I reached the mad clone. I put my hands together before my chest and bowed slightly. "Master C'baoth."

"Mellanna," he greeted me, inclining his head. "Have a seat, we have much to discuss."

As it turned out, much of the discussion was him reiterating his achievements and how those related to his minute control over the Force. I think he tried to convince me that nothing was impossible for Jedi. It was strange, how he still thought of himself as a Jedi, even when he wanted his own Empire.

I listened politely, because as long as he talked, I had to do little, but it was tiring. Maybe this was what it was like when you had to listen to ranting grandparents, I didn't really know, because mine never had done that. But I was sure that falling asleep while C'baoth told of unheard of glories was very bad manners.

"Master, can I ask you a question?" I finally, interrupted him. Calling him Master was surprisingly easy. Maybe because it spared me a lot of trouble arguing the point and getting fried by Force-lightning. But then, the original _had_ been a Master once, a pretty arrogant one, but still.

"Of course, Mellanna."

"In the Emperor's storage, is there not something, a gadget, whatever, that could measure how sensitive to the force I really am?"

"Do not trust in technology so much," he chided. "The Force is never wrong, my apprentice, and it marks you out as an important person."

Important. And that meant logically, from his point of view logically, I mean, that I had to be Force sensitive, because only Jedi were important, or at least important enough to show up funny in the Force. Or something along those lines. I was _so_ doomed. Not even 3PO could properly express the degree of doom I was in.

"I will help you open your channels to the Force, Mellanna," he stood up placing a hand on my shoulder. "there is too much doubt in you. Believe!" He smiled, genuinely, and I caught a glimpse of the Master he had been.

Getting up myself, I followed him to the training area. To my immense relief, he did not want to spar, but sat down with his legs crossed, beckoning me to do the same.

"You are too distracted with your life. Wipe all that from your mind, my apprentice, you're your calm and power."

I settled down facing him, feeling the doubts he mentioned very clearly. But meditation was said to be good for you, even if you were not Force-sensitive. I might as well give it a shot. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes. _Tell me what to do._

"I will," C'baoth replied.

And so, I spent the rest of my time with C'baoth in meditation, trying to free the clogged ways of the Force in my mind and reconnect to its all embracing power. Not that it helped much. Still, when I finally left, I felt a lot calmer and centred.

Arn looked rather guilty when he picked me up again, but I just shook my head in resignation. "There's nothing either of us can do about that. He's a Jedi, and we are not."

"I couldn't imagine it," he said. "I never thought it possible."

"Not enough Jedi in your life, huh?" I ribbed him friendly. "Let's hope it stays that way for now. C'baoth is not really a shining example."

"You tell me." He still seemed to grapple with how easy he had been sent away. It was almost cute. "Maybe if we used ysalamiri-"

"And what?" I cut him off. "We can hardly tell C'baoth he may train me and then surround him with creatures that make it impossible even for _him_ to access the Force. I don't think he'd appreciate."

"I am just worried."

"I know." With a sigh, I wondered where my centred calmness had suddenly gone to. "The moment I can think of something we can do, I'll tell you." I looked around. "Where are we going anyway?"

"Your new workplace," he said with a lopsided smile. "Since your military education leaves - everything to be desired, it was decided you would be best placed in communications. Orientation starts now."

He led me into a room full of busily talking people; it looked a bit like a call-centre. "Comms, huh?" I glanced around. "I'm all game."

My instructor was, oh wonder, an Imperial officer who looked good in his uniform. He was blonde and thus not in my prey pattern. Which was a good thing, considering that half the crew of the Chimera probably fell into it anyway. I needed some new criteria, and fast. For the time being, I could not think about that much, though. Officer Karst was introducing me to too much electronics, twiddly knobs and shiny lights for one day. I could hardly remember half.

It took all my concentration just to accept the first incoming report and not delete it on the spot. A person called Dasim re'Doren might have been put out, too, since it looked like a bill for - and it was gone. Space secretary had not been on my list of dream jobs, but it beat Mad-Jedi-Punching-Ball by lengths. I sorted through Imperial administration garbage for several hours.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	22. 022

Twenty-two

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for__ the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!!_

.

I didn't move, not immediately, anyway. Any day now could be another day I had to face C'baoth. Any day was a day I was not at home. _Home. What was going on there? _I was here for how long now? Too long for sure. And any day with that mad Jedi clone was certainly a day too much. Almost no amount of Thrawn could make up for that.

My thoughts lingered on the topic until I read my schedule for the day during breakfast. This time, the food looked like somebody had mixed the receipts for muesli and tarator, but it tasted fine. A bit on the runny side, maybe somebody should tell the Empire about yoghurt. It looked as if the day before was going to be a template of my future. The meeting with C'baoth glared at me maliciously. Thrawn was absent from my day again, probably plotting to take over the galaxy; or shopping for art; or making up a plan to combine both.

So I was missing for two weeks at home now. And here I was barely thinking about it. I felt guilty about not thinking about it much, after all, that was my home, my live, my everything. It was incredible that a simple war and one dark Jedi should keep me so occupied I forgot about my whole family, boyfriend, and friends over them. But try as I might, I could not concentrate on my homesickness and loss with the next meeting with C'baoth being scheduled for the afternoon.

I indulged myself and did a real headdesk. The resulting sound was comforting and the pain in my forehead was immediately cooled by the durasteel of the table. I closed my eyes, trying to find my centre, or at least some motivation to go through the day. Breathe in - breathe out.

_I can make it.  
_Breathe in.  
_I have to make it.  
_Breathe out.  
_I have no choice, really.  
_Breathe in.  
_Damned.  
S_igh.

It was no good. My pad yelled at me that I would be late, if I didn't get going right now. As if I had any wish to be sportive right now. I grabbed it with a huff and trudged off. Maybe it would be better tomorrow. After all, it should be the last day of the week and if C'baoth didn't ruin my life completely, I might just get into the simulators again.

What was great about the new schedule was lunch with Arn. I had gotten so used to eating alone that company was a nice change. Additionally, I got to eat in a refectory. The buzz of people around gave me the feeling that I did not live in a bubble created out of Arn, Seros, and a few other carefully chosen people.

"Ready for another meeting?" Arn asked while I poked my dessert. It was some pinkly-yellow jelly with bits that were hopefully fruit in it. It wobbled nicely and was shiny wile doing so - perfect distraction. I poked it some more and shook my head.

"It's not as if anybody asked my consent, though." I watched the light reflections on the jelly. Finally I looked up. "That makes it all the easier and so much more complicated."

"The moral ambiguity of simply following orders?"

"No, more like the moral ambiguity of doing stuff you're not really behind but not having a choice. I have nowhere to go."

"You don't have to go anywhere; just stay."

I began to methodically cut the jelly into pieces. "So I can decide to stay. Or else? I am not really qualified for anything in this galaxy. It's about just enough to be a distraction for C'baoth and maybe a jester to Thrawn." I shook my head and began to eat.

"Your perspective is regrettable, but that can be mended." Arn's voice was suddenly back to official Imperial. "You are still alive, not in detention and not interrogated. Despite the complete lack of proof for anything you said, you live comfortably; you are even being integrated into the Empire."

"Yeah, and that's worrying me to. It's not what the Empire is known for, you know?" I put down the spoon and looked at him. "Being in detention would make much more sense, even if it was certainly less fun."

He winked. "It's probably your charm."

"Right," I almost snorted. "Nobody can escape my guiles and I'll end up Empress of the new Empire."

Arn looked me up and down. "In your dreams."

Shoving my plate away, I shook my head. "Not really, wouldn't want to end up marrying a Fel. I'm not even sure which of them anyway."

"Fel?" he wondered. "You seem to forget that the future you remember will not come to pass. With the success of your - mission, the next Emperor will be the Grand Admiral."

"Oh." I felt the colour rising to my face as the implications sank in. "Oh."

"Your eloquence is as disarming as your charm, Ms. Morrison." He got up. "Time to ensnare a Jedi."

With a sigh, I followed suit. "You know, Jedi are not supposed to be ensnared. Attachment is forbidden to them. Stupid scuggers."

"That's one thing to be glad about," he agreed. "On top of that, the Grand Admiral has approved for the training rooms to be surveyed completely. As soon as C'baoth is away for a while, some walls will be turned semitransparent. There is hope he won't suspect it when he returns."

"Thanks." There was not much more I could think of.

This time, Arn didn't even try to stay. He saluted crisply to C'baoth, and that was quite a sight, and left. The Dark Jedi was standing in the training section of the huge room, smiling at me benevolently. It really did look creepy on him, though I think, he actually believed it to be true. The madness.

"Master," I greeted him with a bow.

"Mellanna." He laid a hand on my shoulder as soon as I was close enough. "I have heard you like to practice martial arts."

I nodded. "It's like a deadly dance. And I like being able to protect myself, or at least believing I was able to."

"Strength is important for a Jedi," he said, nodding to himself. "Your desire to claim physical strength might be the easier way to your inner powers." He made a beckoning gesture and two lightsabers flew into his hands. I tried not to wonder why there were two of them.

"This weapon is your life," he recited the old Jedi wisdom as he handed me one of them.

I eyed it carefully. Somehow, I had always hoped my life to be a bit longer, ten inches didn't look like a lot. Also, I wanted my life colourful and doubted there were any sabers with plaid patterns. The handle felt alien in my grip, very different from the FX-sabers, colder, more serious, deadly.

Carefully, I pointed the dangerous and away from me, then, I turned it on. A blue blade extended with the snap-hiss described in many books. I think, I know where that comes from. Suddenly there is noise where there was none before and the blade vaporises the air the place of which it takes. It hummed softly in my hands, almost like a living animal.

I moved the blade through the air slowly, feeling the hum change slightly. This was a most dangerous thing. And I should be the last to handle it, I mean, this was real. One wrong move and it'd go straight through the wall and into space. Mesmerised, I stared at the shining blade.

Suddenly, C'baoth moved, I heard his blade ignite and saw a fast movement out of the corner of my eye. Without thinking, I brought the blade up between me and the movement, and the blades clashed, hissing angrily. My heartbeat drowned out C'baoth's words, I only heard blood rushing in my ears. At least, I seemed to be still alive to be scared senseless. My arms began to shake.

But C'baoth was in a universe all his own. He pulled the blade back, attacking from a different angle. I parried and parried and parried again, feeling cold sweat trickle down about everywhere, but he did not let off. I was going to die.

"You cannot defend yourself forever," C'baoth voice rose over the sound of the blades. "If the attacks don't cease, you must end them."

He wanted me to attack? Was he suicidal? I had no clue how to handle this weapon, I might just slice through half the ship before I came to a halt. I would probably kill him with sheer stupidity, and what would Thrawn say? But C'baoth was right. I could not fend him of forever, even if he moved as if in slow-motion. On the other hand, I could not block his strikes either, because I was too weak.

When his next attack came down from the left, I jumped backwards, bringing my blade down over his and forcing it even lower. Using that force, I pushed it upwards on the other side, the tip of my saber slipping through the open defences of the Jedi. Before I sliced open his belly, both blades suddenly shut off. C'baoth took a small step backwards, inclining his head.

"A dangerous manoeuvre, but effective. I see that your instructions leave a lot to be desired."

I couldn't agree more. If I had to handle anything faster than a snail with the saber, I'd loose. "I am afraid, I lack even the most fundamental training," I said. "I would certainly feel better if that was amended."

"You are trying to distract me from teaching you other things."

"A little," I admitted. "The other stuff scares me even worse than this."

Thoughtful, he stroked his beard. "There is no way around it," he finally declared. "Being a Jedi is not just being able to fight with a saber, you need minute control over the Force. This, only practice and guidance can bring about."

I felt myself slump. "If you say so, Master C'baoth."

I had to spend the remaining time with completely useless exercises in meditation, telekinesis, illusion casting, and other mind tricks. Considering how I could not tap into the Force at all, it was a vain effort. All it did was keep C'baoth busy. I am sure that was the sole purpose.

I was glad, when I could finally leave and sort through administration mail again. It was not the most challenging work, but I think, after the time with C'baoth, a challenge was the last I needed.

So there you have the reason I didn't update here…


	23. 023

Twenty-three

_Get up, cadet Morrison!  
__This is your free day, so use it!  
__I expect you to stand to attention at eight sharp.  
__Move, move, move!_

_._

My eyes flew open when this unexpected call woke me. What the - ?

It certainly sounded like Sergeant Toris, and I was due at the sims today. A nice joke; I bet Arn was behind that. I just hoped, he never tried to convince C'baoth to do the morning call. I'd probably try to drown myself in the sonic.

Not so today. I jumped out of the bunk, banging my head on the edge of it. So what? Taking the time to shower for real is a treat. I started thinking about a tub again. I think in 'Dirt' or one of the sequels one was mentioned. Admittedly, it was in the Grand Admiral's quarters, but Thrawn couldn't spend all his time there. Maybe I could sneak in when he visited the Noghri. Now that sounded like a plan!

I had my fave breakfast, wafer-y things with creamy stuff and konot-tea. Yes, the face-kicking stuff does have a name. I asked Arn, and though he is still not happy with my interest in Mandos, he is indulging me. Must be C'baoth, that I have to suffer him sees to make Arn a guilty conscience. I feel for him, but he can't really go to Thrawn and berate him. Maybe I can. I'll think about it.

While eating, I found a manual in the labyrinth of date of the ship and repeated my lessons of last week. So many fiddly knobs. I only remembered half of them. But I caught up real fast.

I arrived at the simulators early and took some time to fawn over them. Since I had been clever enough to set the timer of my pad a little before eight, Toris did not find me drooling all over his machinery.

"Good morning, Sir!" I shouted happily.

"Cadet Morrison, did you repeat the subject matter of last week?"

"Sir, yes, Sir!" I was suddenly very happy about my inspiration of the morning.

"Then let's go," he gestured towards the nearest simulator.

I almost bounced up the ladder and dropped into the cockpit. For a moment, I just sat there, taking everything in, letting my hands wander over the controls. _This_ was most certainly, what I was in the Empire for. Grand Admirals and Dark Jedi blast themselves.

"All set?" Toris' voice came over the comm.

"Set, and ready to go." I grabbed the steering stick and went off, happily scrapping simulated TIEs in the training tunnels. It was fun, and took me only an hour to realise that the tunnels were laid out to mirror certain movements you should be able to do with your fighter, backward rolls, nose dives, generally confusing evasive patterns. Though the last might just have been a glitch in the programming. After finding that out, it became easier not to turn my TIE into a scrap heap.

After that, it was the same game just without tunnel. Instead I was given a line in space to follow. It seemed easier, but that was probably just because I had no walls to scrape anymore. Toris' running commentary on my actions did not change. Still, I jumped out of the simulator pretty happy.

Since Arn was not around, I took advantage of the situation and mapped myself a way into the next refectory. It was full of pilots and technicians, and all were - well, mostly shoving food into their faces as if there was no tomorrow; which might just be true if you were a pilot. I grabbed a tablet and sat down in a corner, watching.

Everybody looked pretty male to me. Might be those haircuts, if I had a choice between Prince Valiant and no hair, I'd go for no hair, too. And maybe, the girls that ended up here were the masculine type anyway, a bit like me. I poked around in my food, trying not to think of the times in my life I had actually sported that kind of haircut.

Not that I would be likely to forget. After all, a picture of that adorned the cover for one of my stories. Wow. I had not wondered about my stories for - days now. A week, even. It seemed that with all those real-life-issues my mind had been blown pretty clean of anything related to fanfic. Not that I was sure where to place it now. This seemed a bit too real to be simple make-belief, especially with C'baoth on the boat. He creeped me out. I was glad he had not been allowed into my free day. I hoped.

I sat there, feeling a bit like the nerdy kid at high school, the one nobody talked to, but it was probably Thrawn's fault. He might just have given out the strict order to leave me alone. And I didn't even have the time to make up clone-stories to keep me company. Clones, clones, there was something there I should remember. Something to do.

I stared at my half-eaten lunch. Actually, there were many things I could do. Maybe the best would be becoming nanny in the Solo household. Solos - clone - Solo. It would come to me again. Until then, I might just make a list of things to do. Yvethans, for example. With Thrawn's help, something could surely be done about that. And somebody would have to reprogram those silly flowers from the Eyes of Palpatine. I could get copies of the sessions to cheer me up. And Hethrir, or Fe'lya. Maybe I could manoeuvre Thrawn into having him assassinated. Now that would be a good riddance.

And while I was at it, I could have Daala executed for unaccountable stupidity, and the Suncrusher stuffed where _no_ sun sheds daylight, and maybe with a good spanking or two Kyp could be back to normal. So many possibilities. I finished my meal and began punching at my pad until it showed something that looked like you were supposed to write. _Saving The Galaxy For Beginners. _I certainly liked the sound of that.

Before I had gotten very far with my list, I had to return to the simulators, though. I was happy enough, because I got my squad back, well, you know what I mean, and Alpha didn't have to sigh half as much as before. I was improving, or he was getting lax; or both. Also, I managed not to fly straight at the attackers, but mirrored the tactics of the others. Well, I really was, if you used a very old and crooked mirror.

As a result, I was blown out of space a lot sooner. Great. I decided that being crazy and flying like that was a very good plan if the alternative was doing things by the book and get shot. I got another go, but it ended not much different. Flying like a madwoman had been much more fun, too. But this was the Empire, things were regulated and you followed the rules. And died. I wondered if the Rebellion had similar rules. I should really have read the X-Wing series.

I got off too early for dinner and wandered through the corridors without any real goal. At least, that was what I told myself after if became clear that I was not approaching my room, not even on a very circumspect route. I just kept walking; sooner or later, I had to come to the end of the ship. It looked the same all over. Grey walls, grey floors, grey ceiling, grey uniforms, grey jumpsuits, grey everything. Somebody once said that grey was the colour that threw you back onto yourself. I didn't feel like concerning me with myself right now.

The corridor made a sharp turn and following led to a set of turbolifts. Since one just opened as I approached, I took the chance and stepped in. The uniformed occupants didn't give me a second glance. I felt invisible. Taking the very next stop, I began my journey again. Walking was always calming me down. Though I didn't really know what I was running from. Maybe the next day, certainly myself and my current predicament. I felt guilty for not thinking of home much, and when I thought of home, I just got so sad, I didn't want to do anything at all. That didn't help me either, so I could rationally argue that not thinking of home was good, but still, how could I just forget?

Tired, I crouched down in a corner, hugging my knees. I didn't want to think; not at all. I just wanted - nothing. Putting my head on my knees, I tried to sort out what I really wanted.

Points of interest 1: Staying alive. That was out of question.  
Points of interest 2: Thrawn, which was rather suicidal.  
Points of interest 3: peace, love and happiness. Well, I might just as well shoot myself.

They had not given me a blaster.

Maybe I should just cling to my usually philosophy that things happened when they had to, and you'd get from circumstance what you were supposed to do. Like, getting thrown of the bike thrice in a month means 'buy a car'. But that would not work if you knew what would happen, would it?

No.

Initiative. I would have to find it somewhere.

My pad blared at me and I threw it against the opposite wall. It flew apart in a most satisfactory shower of debris. Whatever. I needed to think.

And that is the reason, I didn't update here.


	24. 024

Twenty-four 

I did not get long to sit and think. Only a few minutes after my pad had pinged out of existence, Ensign Arn rounded the corner. I did not ask how he found me. I remembered operations, and my back had never given me any trouble. Maybe it was even better now, or maybe it was just - enhanced. Anyway, it gave the word backtracking a whole new meaning.

"I will have to deduct the cost of a new pad from your pay," he commented, surveying the damage.

"I don't get any pay."

"I feared you would say that," he sighed. "I'll bring the subject up with the Grand Admiral." He offered his hand to pull me up.

But I shook my head. "Don't want to."

"Do you get a choice?"

"No." I didn't move.

"Attitude, Ms. Morrison," he chided. "You have no ambition at all. You know what ambition is, though?"

"'Course I do," I shot back. "They're cold-blooded vertebrae starting out with gills and ending up with lungs."

He stared at me, but I managed not to flinch.

"You are having one of those moods again," Arn decided shaking his head. "But that's okay. I don't have to suffer it." He took my hand I let myself get pulled up. "The Grand Admiral wants to see you."

"Great," I muttered.

I followed him into the turbolift, and an uneasy silence descended on it while it raced through the ship. We got off in what seemed to be more living quarters, though by the way the doors were spaced I guessed that this is where the tinsel-boys had their home.

"Here you go."

I looked at the closed door, then back to Arn. "It must be quite a sucker of a job, being caretaker of Ms. Incapable, and never being allowed around when taking care would really be of need."

He smiled slightly. "But with the Grand Admiral I am at least sure he won't kill you."

"And with Rukh in the vicinity, I won't get very far with trying either," I nodded. "Hooray."

"You know what? When this is over, I'll help you get a drink." His attempt to cheer me was rather touching. I felt guilty for giving him such a hard time when he was hardly to blame.

"Real alcohol?" My interest awoke.

"Real alcohol," he confirmed. "Engine Section 3 is making a real good brand."

"Now that's a promise I like," I grinned. The idea to get wasted was appealing to me. And it was my free day. Grand Admiral or no. "I'll try to hurry."

He mock-saluted and left. Taking a deep breath, I approached the door. So this was it. Private quarters. Art. The whole frigging cliché. Wonderful. But first - the anteroom. It was small, dimly lit and full of nothing. After taking two steps I stopped.

"Hello Rukh."

Suddenly, I found myself staring down the business end of a horribly lethal knife. Horrible not because it was so huge or anything, it was actually slender, made to fit up a sleeve, but it looked as if you had to had to drop dead just from looking at it.

"Wow." Without thinking I reached for the hilt, and my hand closed around the blade as Rukh pulled it out of my reach. Pain seared through my hand and when I opened it, I saw two parallel wounds running along its inside. They were not deep, but making up for that by bleeding ferociously.

"I am not to play with," his gravelly voice ground out.

"I am sorry," I said, staring at my hand. Then I looked back at him. "It seems to be the only thing I am allowed to do around here: play along, play the good Imperial, play Padawan for the mad Jedi Master - just pretend all is fine."

I balled my hand, feeling the blood gather and drip to the floor. "Well, I have become very good at that." I took another step towards the next door, but Rukh was in between again. Faster than my eyes could follow, he took my hand, and wrapped something around it. His grasp was hard like steel, but he didn't even need to use any force. He just applied some pressure to the right spots and my hand moved all of its own accord.

I started at my dressed hand, taking a deep breath. "Thank you."

He gestured towards the door. "Just remember," he mewed after me, "that in the end, all games are deadly."

Taking another deep breath I stepped - into a copy of the Chimera's bridge. Such a letdown. I mean, honestly, who wouldn't want to see that dimly lit art museum with Thrawn in the middle. Dimly lit and Thrawn - that was certainly a nice image. Not one that would come true any time soon, though.

Captain Pellaeon stood at his side, and both looked really serious. They watched my approach and I felt exceptionally exposed. And decided to take exception to that. Still, I saluted first.

"Private Morrison reporting as demanded."

"Leave the games," Pellaeon replied, obviously not happy with my military integration.

"As you wish," I stood at ease, waiting for disaster to happen. I did not have to wait long.

"The mission on Bimmisaari was a failure."

"I know."

"Your loyalties should have dictated that you turn it into a victory," Pellaeon said coolly.

I shrugged. "It's okay, everything is going exactly as it should."

Pellaeon bristled, obviously not agreeing at all. But before he could dump his Imperial indignity on me Thrawn raised a hand. "Please Captain, leave us."

Pellaeon bristled even more at that, but he was a good Imperial and left. I watched him because he was the only moving object around.

"He is resenting your unwillingness to contribute to our victory."

"That's okay, he's a fine Imperial. And in the end I will be contributing." Oh my, had I just said that? Was that a promise? Or a threat? How committed did that make me?

"He is very experienced," Thrawn agreed. "But not quite a leader."

"Oh, he'll turn out fine, he has a very good teacher."

"You asked C'baoth for an item to test your Force sensitivity?" Thrawn suddenly changed the topic.

"Oh, I know there is one, but there is also a much easier way to find out. Not that I'm going to tell C'baoth."

"And why not?"

"I'm keeping the _fierfek_ bastard off your back while you try to catch Luke and Leia. Any other wishes?" I snapped. When I pushed myself like that for the Empire, he could at least acknowledge it.

"Tell me how it works," he demanded.

"You need to be Force sensitive yourself," I explained. "There's a place at the neck, if you touch it and do something with the Force, there is a reaction. Depending how strong one's ability is you get a slap or thrown across the room."

Thrawn nodded thoughtfully. "Unfortunately, we have only one Jedi here."

"More than enough for me, and I don't want him to touch me at all, if possible." I shuddered. "I'll keep him busy for you, and in return you try to keep him as far away from me as possible. I'm sure he's been a lot more patient now that he thinks he has one apprentice already."

"And your price -?" It might have been a trap. I didn't care.

"My price? For being prey to an insane Dark Jedi with a lust for ultimate control over your head?" I had to stop or I would have shouted at him. I shook my head. "You can't afford me, Grand Admiral."

"Good for me then, that I don't have to," he replied coolly.

"Yeah, good for you," I hissed.

"So, what _is_ the price?"

I stared at him, determined that I should not turn into a merc. But let me tell you one thing: never try to stare down a Chiss. They're just better at it. I kept it up for quite some time, but in the end, I stared at my hands, stubbornly. I was not for sale. There was just one currency in which you could buy me, but I would certainly not tell _him_ about that.

"Maybe later," I finally replied. Once I had a plan on how to save the galaxy from himself, I would need Thrawn's cooperation for sure.

He scrutinised me closely, and it was not pleasant. I tried to breathe regularly and wait. Non-violent resistance seemed to work fine with him, and that was something I was good at. I could keep it up for days, though some claim I was just sulking.

"I know that some of the things happening are not what you would wish for, okay?" I finally said. "But I'll tell you as soon as something happened I don't know about." He just kept regarding me, as if he could read on my forehead or something. Maybe he could, I just wondered what he thought about the things written there. I was just glad when he dismissed me.

"Ugh." I paused in the anteroom. "One day I'll just gonna kill him."

"No, you will not," Rukh's voice meowed too close at my right.

I turned to look at him. "You're right," I said finally. "You're right, I won't." With a sigh I stepped into the corridor and almost directly into Ensign Arn.

"You don't actually look mangled at all," he approved.

"Don't feel much like it, either," I replied. "Which is nice for a change. Maybe it is difficult to bargain with somebody who has nothing to loose."

"But everything to gain," Arn nudged me.

"You can't buy me with money."

"I am sure the Grand Admiral knows. He's rather clever, you know."

I sighed. "Probably, but I cannot decide what to go for, the life of billions or just of a handful."

"Both," Arn said. "You can give up one in the bargain in the end."

I stared at him. He didn't seem to notice and shoved me through a door. It was another canteen, but obviously laid out for free time. There was even a tiny stage which made me wonder if Imperials had amateur bands on their ships; or maybe comedians, theatre? Probably not ballet, though.

Arn steered me to a table at which several men sat. "May I introduce, Alpha."

"I'm Jes."

"Beta."

"Sey, hi."

"And the three from engine section three, Mari, Jenn, and Vega."

I said my hellos, unable not to stare as Jes and Sey. They were so young! A lot younger than me, but they looked up to their job.

"Sorry about the trouble," I mumbled shaking Jes' hand.

"No problem," he handed me a glass. "You're fun to watch, can't believe the stunt you pulled first time around. We're still amazed Toris didn't rip your head off." He launched into a retell of my stupidity which earned a lot of laughter, punctuated with the clank of glasses and Arn almost snorting his drink through his nose when Jes imitated me flying straight at the enemy.

Whatever. I tried the drink, and was most tempted to snort it out, too. That was incredibly strong though it looked and smelled like water.

"Good, eh," Jenn clapped his hand on my back. "Best moonshine on the ship."

"Tastes like distilled konot-tea," I croaked before trying again. Once you got used to the rush of alcohol that went straight into your head through the roof of your mouth, not bothering to take the long way via the stomach it was bearable.

There was more laughter and they took up the conversation pretty much where they left off. I followed as good as I could, not really getting much of it. Ship-talk, crew-talk, engineer-talk; it was like a boys night out. I wondered if there were enough women on the whole ship to organise a girls night out. Probably not.

On my second glass, I joined the talking, there's funny stories no matter where you are from, and suddenly, Toris was there, ranting about the good old times. Jes and Sey kept his glass suspiciously well-filled. They seemed to know that he would shut up when he had enough.

"Good old time," I snorted. "Clones or whatever, wonder what happened to them. Apart from sudden death."

"Oh, some are still around," Toris eyed me curiously, or would have if he hadn't been so hammered. "Even here."

"I thought they're all dead." I was amazed, and also wondering what they would think of Thrawn's latest enterprise.

"Not all of them, though most are pretty old by now."

"_bleep_," I said – well, not really bleep, but you get the picture - dropping my forehead on my arm, I raised my glass in Jes' direction for a refill. The though of living Tem-clones walking the same decks was getting to me. _Bleep_ indeed; I didn't even care how old they were.

"So," I wanted to know, emptying my glass in one go, "is there really an Empire Drinking Game?"

Jes and Mar looked at Arn, but he just shrugged.

"Well," Jes said, finally, "I think I'll get a very old map for that. You any good with darts?"

I shook my head.

"Good."

And let me tell you, the Empire Drinking Game is fun. Extracting darts from random Imperials is fun, too, so is the ensuing brawl. I soon felt rather beat-up, and for several reasons, but the bottle never seemed to get any more empty. I had to do something about that.

And that is the reason, I didn't update here...


	25. 025

Twenty-five 

_I run through the Chimera again, at least I think it's the Chimera. The corridors look all the same, I am getting nowhere. I am running away anyway, there is somebody after me, I know it. I speed up. But it is stupid and dangerous, because I hold an ignited lightsaber in my hand, the green light casts an eerie sheen over the grey walls. _

_If I don't find it soon, I'll be lost, but I have no clue what I am looking for and he is closing in. There is writing on the walls, and I cannot read it. It doesn't bother me, I can never read in my dreams. The letters snake over the surface, living hieroglyphs telling a story I cannot understand. Might be my story, I don't understand any of that either._

_He reaches me. I turn. It is Christopher Walken again, a red lightsaber glowing in his hand. He looks put out._

_"Now that you now what he looks like, would you mind leaving me out of this?" he demands._

_Our sabers clash, and I nod sheepishly. His features begin to morph, but I cannot really see into what, I am too busy fighting. And I am loosing._

_He has me pinned against the wall, disapproval on his face and a million questions flickering through his eyes._

_I have only one answer. So I wrap my arms around him, burrowing my hand in his black hair - but I have just enough time to find out how good a kisser he is before -_

_._

_._

_._

… _do something for the Empire!_

I snap upright on my bunk, not sure if I was scared to death or slightly aroused. Both I had to admit in the end, which was scary all in itself. Too bad there was no way to have a cold sonic, but the tea brought me back to my normal self soon enough. The good thing was that after it, even if reality kicked you in the face full-force, it was only half so bad. You had seen worse.

I played with my wafers, trying to make up my mind on whether to take initiative or not. And where to start, my life, my future, and then there was always Rhukh and Luke, and Arn, and - my pad barked at me, to get my sorry ass into the gym. Initiative would have to wait.

Wandering down the corridor, I wondered why I didn't have a blazing headache. Most of the last night was a blur. I remember a lot of drinking and joking, Toris had come and talked a lot about the good old times. I didn't remember much of that, but I think Tem-clones had been mentioned. And then there was that story I had told, that had them all guffawing. I just wished I could remember what it had been about.

Maybe it had just been the one with the stars, or the one about potato salad. With a bit of bad luck it could even have been the one about the electrical fence. I hope it hadn't. That had been real embarrassing. Suddenly, I was very glad for having led such a boring and decent life for the most time.

Arn awaited me I the gym, not looking at all like a man after a boozy night. Probably I didn't either. Amazing stuff EC3 brewed up. Because of my hand, I was back at circular training. If only I could blame that on Rhukh, but you just didn't grab a knife at the blade. I'd remember next time, if only because I hated this kind of exercise.

"Why so silent?" Arn asked. "Already puffed?"

"Thinking about last night," I hedged.

"It was fun. You seemed to enjoy yourself a lot. Though I don't think anybody will give you darts again any time soon."

"Probably safer," I agreed. "I am still amazed Jes and Sey got out of this without injury."

"They are, too, you got almost everybody else." I hoped he was exaggerating. "But since you're such fun, they're willing to risk it next time."

"They do?" I wondered what I had done to deserve that. And I really began to wish I could remember more.

"You kept Toris and his stories off their backs."

"If you say so." I couldn't remember that. "He seems to be nice enough."

"And he has taken a shine to you."

"He has?" There seemed to be a lot more missing than I even remembered I had forgotten.

"Your interest in the Clone Wars..."

"My interest in the clones, or in the war?" That might have been embarrassing.

"You don't remember a lot about last night, do you?" Arn regarded me carefully.

I shook my head, starting to worry. "Was it very bad?"

A mischievous grin crept into his face. "Naw, you did okay. Except for Lieutenant Cherez, he might avoid you now."

"The one I hit with the dart?"

"The only you hit with the dart and then embarrassed," Arn corrected me. I think, your score hitting the crew was a lot above your score in the actual game."

"And Cherez... ?"

"In your own words?" Arn was enjoying himself too much for my liking. "You picked the dart out of his arm saying 'Sorry, I seem to have stuck something into you. If you want satisfaction, I'm all game. You can use this, or your own dart.' And his reaction was pretty what yours is now."

_Fierfek. Frigging, ToS-violating bleep!_

Maybe I should vow never to touch alcohol again. Well, maybe just not that much. For now.

Working out was rather relaxed, and short on top of that. Arn was not very forthcoming with the reasons for it, not even during lunch. Some people even greeted us, and I waved back, though I didn't really remember any of them. None sported an obvious bandage, though, so they might have meant Arn instead of me.

"Off to the bridge," Arn said checking his chrono.

The bridge? Now that sounded ominous. I couldn't think of any business I had being on the bridge. But hey, it might get me around my session with C'baoth. And afterwards, I'd get adventurous and see if I could find out a way not only to sort mail, but to send some, too. Not that I knew whom to mail yet. Or, well, maybe I did. But that all depended. But first things first. It was time to visit my fave, ToS-violating Grand Admiral on the bridge of his flagship.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	26. 026

Twenty-six

Oh, the joys of being Padawan of a mad Jedi Master in the middle of war. I think that being in the Clone Wars would have been bad enough, but this -. I sat rather scared at C'baoth's side, my eyes darting around the bridge of the _Chimera_. We were about to engage in battle, and somehow the concentrated tension of the crew made me edgy. I had no purpose whatsoever here, and I felt it.

"Do not worry, my Padawan," C'baoth said, putting his hand on my shoulder. "This will be very educational for you, just follow my lead in the Force."

I nodded helplessly. What other option did I have? This was a three way attack in three different systems and I didn't think any was more difficult to spell than this: Bpfassh. Who ever named places here, should be shot. My spelling was bad enough without such monsters. So Bpfassh was the target and I was sitting in the first row to witness. I so wished I didn't.

Every now and then I felt the glance of Pellaeon on me, who seemed to be the only one agreeing with me that I didn't belong here. Thrawn looked rather calm in the centre of the bridge, his usual self-assured self. If only I had such a casual attitude towards killing.

"Captain? Is my flagship ready?" Thrawn's voice rang across the bridge.

"The _Chimera_ is fully at your command," Pellaeon replied.

Despite everything it felt reassuring to hear some Imperial Procedure. And those two played it out very neat. If only that didn't mean going into battle. Couldn't you settle this with a dance-off?

"…they are," C'baoth's voice broke into my fears. Three battles, coordinated to the last. Luke would have quite something on his hands soon.

The _Chimera_ flashed out of hyperspace, fighters launching already, and despite the orderly depiction in the book, the bridge was a hive of action and it was difficult to hear anything. Reports and orders washed over me, covering all the small details a space battle entailed with which a Grand Admiral could not be bothered.

"… the plan is to hurt and frighten, not obliterate." But Thrawn's order sounded empty in the ongoing destruction. The word "destroyed" was an essential part of most messages I caught. Through the viewport, I could see the flare as the orbiting defence station went up in fire. I was glad I was bad with stats. It never occurred to me to wonder how many men you needed to run such a station.

"They proceed," C'baoth rasped at my side. He looked horribly drawn, almost as if he was only half there. And that might just have been the case; he was leading two more battles after all. Dutifully, I tried to reach out with the Force and feel something. Nothing. The exhaustion was clear on his face though; he looked almost human in his effort.

I met Pellaeon's gaze, and he didn't seem happy about C'baoth either, but for completely different reasons. He caught my wide-eyed fear, though, and I think he finally understood, what being a Jedi Master meant, and what a huge heap of _osik_ I was in; and the whole fleet on top of it. I shook my had slightly, trying to wipe the pained expression from my face. If this was what battle felt like for normal people, I was sure as heel happy not to be Force-sensitive.  
It must _hurt_.

"Order the two forces to break off their attack, as well," Thrawn ordered. "I presume you are in close enough contact to do that?"

The man was pushing everybody's buttons. C'baoth was strained enough as it was, and if I didn't know he wouldn't snap, I would have been really scared now.

"You question me too much, Grand Admiral Thrawn," C'baoth replied, obviously having his mind on other things. His face was as husky as his voice. He looked - pitiful.

Automatically, my hand placed itself on his arm. Silent suffering just did that to me, I never had a chance. On the other hand, it was also an interesting signal to send to Thrawn, whatever he made of it. But right then, I was ready to serve the Jedi Master some tea and biscuits. Voluntarily.

"I question all that is not familiar to me. Call them back to the rendezvous point." I wondered why I didn't feel very questioned if that was the truth. I was probably just not useful enough to get familiar with. Or just too easy to see through. I repressed the urge to drum my fingers, because they still laid on C'baoth's arm.

"As you command." He retired into the inner realms of the Force, the strain on his features increasing again. I could almost feel his presence waver between here and there. Maybe it was just wild imagination. I am very good with that.

"So what is the lesson you learned?" His voice was suddenly very close. I turned to look at him, and though the exhaustion was still clearly visible on his face, he was very much here again.

"Apart from the fact that the Grand Admiral likes to push everybody's buttons?" I shrugged. "I can't help being myself."

He gave me a strange glance but nodded. "The Grand Admiral is not to be underestimated. And he does not know his place. If you let him, he will con you out of your rewards without you noticing."

I looked over to where he stood, still talking with Pellaeon. C'baoth might be right, but there was not much I could do about it. I might be stupid enough to be happy about it even. I watched ol' Redeyes nod and tried to sort myself.

_Ambition. Initiative. Result!_

I would have to get started soon if I wanted to effect anything. I looked from the Jedi to the Grand Admiral and back. _Somebody had to do something - and that somebody was me. Blast Zahn and Pratchett for that attitude._

"Grand Admiral Thrawn," C'baoth called out, saving me the trouble to do something right then.

"Yes, Master C'baoth?"

"Where are my Jedi, Grand Admiral Thrawn? You promised me that your tame Noghri would bring me my Jedi."

I felt Thrawn's eyes on me shortly, before he returned his attention to C'baoth. Watching my feet seemed like a very good occupation.

"Patience, Master C'baoth," Thrawn answered. "The preparations took time, but they're now complete. They await merely the proper time to act."

"That time had best be soon," Cabaoth stood up, taking my arm. "I grow tired of waiting."

He dragged me off, probably to some more harassing, or plain stating I indeed was Force-sensitive as toast, and I was out of the game. That would be a blast. I looked back over my shoulder, giving Thrawn a small shrug.

Well, the Lanna-rescue-program was running smoothly, and Ensign Arn collected me neatly just before C'baoth could usher me into the training rooms. I tried not to feel too relieved, and apologised profoundly. I would be back the next day anyway. Let both of us have a break.

Not that I got much of one. Arn dragged me off to mail sorting duty. Nothing like stupefying work to get your mind of people blazing to death in the cold emptiness of space. It was a valiant attempt and worked well enough. Until I hit some very administrative work. I had never seen that special folder before, but since it was on my duty rooster…

They were death notes.

I swallowed hard, trying to forget the blazing inferno that had been my midday occupation. How many? Too many. I didn't dare to count properly.

I did make the mistake and read the names on all of them.

_I'm alive, you're dead, I remember you, so you're eternal... _I didn't go on. The list was too long for one day. And knowing myself, I'd also forget about them, not to mention reciting the remembrance. They deserved better that that. I read their names anyway.

_Chaz Gyyll  
__Kresh Dyartes  
__Epp Solaris  
__Dev Corliss  
__Torm Nalto  
__Tac Darran  
__Gilian Nere_

The list just went on and on.

And something in me softly went 'snap'. This was so wrong. And what was worse, this would go on for years without end. Daala, Nil Spaar, Zsinj, the Vong, more Sith and even more Sith.

I sent the last message.

_Janseek Anan_

I needed a plan. I might just - have one. And all I needed was at my disposal. So I just got to it and buried myself under a wagon load of work.

And that is the reason I didn't update.


	27. 027

Twenty-seven

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!

Move it!!

.

I dragged myself out of bed feeling like a herd of banthas had trample over me - repeatedly. Staying up long with that kind of schedule might not be a good idea. Maybe they had caffeine pills somewhere. I would certainly need them soon.

I gulped down my tea in one go, feeling slightly better, and managed not to drown in the shower. Okay, it was a sonic, but I felt tired enough to manage. I jogged off in the direction of the nearest refectory, grabbed more konot tea and something that looked as if it might be caf. Tasted like a horribly bitter version of coffee, too, but I washed it down with the tea, ignoring the concerned glances as I shook with revulsion.

_Duty, Ms. Morrison, duty and responsibility._

Stuffing some breakfast into my face, I jogged off to the gym. Arn seemed surprised by my enthusiasm. But I needed to be fit. Strong, capable, determined. Whatever it takes. I ignored my protesting muscles and just went on.

"I'm sorry if the battle unbalanced you so badly," Arn said after the training. "C'baoth insisted on your presence."

"It's okay," I smiled. "It was an education in itself. "Can I get some lessons with a blaster?"

He looked surprised. "Why do you think you will need that?"

"In an Empire at war? Beats me. But I thought asking for a deecee would be a bit over the top; or a plex might be fun." I shrugged as I walked away. Let him think I was about to start my own war, he would not be far off.

"Ms. Morrison, what are you planning?" He sounded serious.

"You don't want to know," I told him. "And it's none of your business, either. If I don't get to play with fire arms, fine, I will live." I turned and looked at him. He was nice guy, and if I could enlist him, things would be much easier.

"I'm just trying to adapt as well as possible," I explained. "Once this is over, I'll need to do _something_ to earn my keep. So I'd like to find out what I am good at before I have to rely on it. Sorting mail? Thanks, but I'd rather herd rancors."

"You'd like to stay in the Empire." Stating the obvious, but so cute while doing it. It was tempted to pinch his cheek.

"You might like to kick me out, but yes, I'd prefer to stay."

"I am sure Grand Admiral Thrawn has a way to keep you in his Empire." He sounded confused.

"I don't want to be a kept woman," I said levelling my index finger at Arn. "Especially not _his_." Initiative was all every well, but I did things in fits and starts. So I had better milk this for all it was worth. "I want to be able to stand on my own, and I am certainly very much out of my depth anywhere in this galaxy. That needs to change. I need an education, a passport, a profession. And personal clairvoyant of his Admiralship is _not_ what I have in mind."

"I will talk with - his Admiralship about this."

"Good." I was on and about to demand and see Thrawn myself, but by the time I got an appointment my initiative would be up and gone. No, that needed better planning. I had get my bargaining chips together, and I had to decide on what I really, really wanted.

_Whatever it takes._

At least, I knew where to start. Small, in the Empire, and with something that had nothing to do with anything.

"So, did I scare you off, or are you still company for lunch?" I tilted my head slightly, unable to suppress a mischievous grin.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Arn shook his head. "Don't try anything cute, Ms. Morrison, that's _our_ job. Except if there's a good laugh in it for me," he added as an afterthought.

"Will do, sir." I mock-saluted. And I did make sure I behaved very normal throughout the whole meal. After all, I was just an innocent, bumbling female, got it?

C'baoth now, he was a different matter. And I was not sure what to do about him. Tipping him off to my inability to use the Force was out of the question. Keeping him occupied was another piece of the puzzle I needed.  
Leverage.  
Find the weakest point and apply pressure.  
Don't write it, _be_ it!

_This_ is the second chance.

"Master C'baoth," I bowed, "I am really sorry about yesterday. It was not my idea."

"They don't want you close to me," he said bitterly. "Pretending to give you to me as apprentice - I do not believe the Grand Admiral's claim to give me other Jedi to be any more true."

"He is honest about that," I assured the Jedi. "By tomorrow, Skywalker will know about the rumours that place you on Jomark, and soon he will go there."

"You have seen it?" C'baoth's voice rang with hope and suspicion.

"More or less," I hedged. "Seeing the future seems to come more easily than other things."

C'baoth laid his hand on my shoulder. "It is a useful talent if applied right. You have to know into the service of who you give it."

"They made me send the death notes," I whispered. "All of them."

He squeezed my shoulder, but I shook my head. "This is not right. I do not want this. This war is wrong!"

"It will not last for much longer," C'baoth radiated confidence.

I closed my eyes. "No," I agreed. "Between you and Skywalker leading the factions, there has to be no war."

He took a step backwards, clearly surprised by the idea. But I could tell by the way he stroked his beard carefully that he was considering it and found no flaw in the logic.

"Your scope of vision is considerable," he finally said. "And your grasp of reality is improving." He sounded genuinely pleased.

"The military has its uses, but it cannot replace real guidance," pressed on. "And you have seen for yourself how easily democracy turns into corruption - twice."

"But I will not let it happen a third time! You are right, my padawan," he came and placed a hand on my shoulder leading me towards the study corner. "Wise leadership cannot be expected from anybody lacking the proper education. It is a huge task, but somebody has to do it."

And that somebody was him; I could see it in his eyes. And while he competed with the Grand Admiral, I would do whatever it took. Lessons in politics for example, C'baoth took his new plight very seriously. And honestly, I soon wished he wouldn't. I sucked worse at intergalactic politics than even at using the Force. But it was important, and it was educating, and C'baoth seemed happy enough with my progress.

We did some sparring with lightsabers after that. I still don't like the idea of myself plus lightsaber. It can only end in tears, or more likely, randomly severed limbs. I was very proud of myself when I finished my exercise without loping anything off C'baoth or the furniture. Admitted, it is a gorgeous weapon, but it is a crime to handle it badly. And I didn't think I'd get enough practice to make it look pretty.

But hey, one afternoon with the mad Jedi Master through and everybody happy. If that's not a good result, I don't know. Humming, I got to work on the mail system. A start had been made and so far things looked good enough. Thrawn would be in on the game soon enough, so maybe it was time to get some messages out while I still could. I sifted through the administration. Small and unconnected. I could do that. And what could be said against planting some wood? There had been enough destruction in three systems.

Memorial woods, places of remembrance and peace. Pacifist trees, so to speak. I hit the send button, suggesting that Bafforr trees would do the job just fine. Of course, it would take some time to arrive, bouncing through several systems as a missent odd, but in the end, it would reach it's destination; the addressee was correct, even if the sender was invalid.

Then, I dug myself deep into the systems. And that is the reason, I didn't update here.


	28. 028

Twenty-eight

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!!_

_._

I yawned. A pleasure cruise would be nice, I scratched my head. A beach full of clone troops on shore leave. Nice dream. I got up. It was not going to happen any day soon. Or it might. I could try to grab the cause of the new generation of clones for myself. So far, I hadn't given much thought to them. Bad me, what would Karen Traviss say?

Maybe I should get a look at the templates. My, I was such a sexist. But Tierce …. Naw, not pretty enough, and since I was not a big fan of the Fels, and some of those went native anyway...  
_Um.  
_First things first. And if Thrawn ever got the idea to clone some more Bobas, well, I was right here.

I grabbed my wafers, downed my tea and left for more caffeine. The caf didn't taste any better this time, and in a burst of experimental curiosity, I had grabbed some things that looked like cakes. They were a nice counterbalance, if a bit on the salty side. Darn intergalactic cuisine. I had counted on the xenophobic tendencies of the Empire to make sure all food was palatable for humans. I washed everything down with two more cups of tea, deciding to be less inquiring next time.

"Your sudden boost in morale has me worried," Arn commented while I went through another exercise with the sticks. "Somebody will get hurt."

I nodded, beating his defence away. That was the plan. "I can't sit back forever. And I am extremely tired of being just another pawn."

He countered my attack. "That leaves only bishop, knight, or rook. Except if you'd go for the crown."

Stepping out of his reach, I dropped my sticks. "Rook then." I grinned. "I don't have enough manners to be queen."

"What about faith and valour?" Arn moved in for a final assault.

"Oh, I have both," I just threw myself through the approaching canes, ignoring the impact. I used his momentum to push him over my outstretched leg. He stumbled and I helped him to the ground, making sure my knee came to rest between his shoulder blades. "But being underestimated is so much more fun."

"I see." His voice was muffled. "And here I was thinking the Grand Admiral had finally misjudged somebody."

"Never." I took my knee of his back and helped him up. "I just wonder what he'll make of my personal agenda."

"I don't think going up against him will work."

"I am _not_ working against him. Just ascertaining that I have my own agenda."

"I am not sure that is a good idea."

"But why?" That would have been the top moment to bat my eyes at him. I could control the urge, though. Barely. "I thought we are," I gave Arn a measured glance, "on the same side."

"In which case he will turn your agenda into facts." Arn winked at me. "In some cases at least."

"Win/win; my kind of situation exactly."

"He will sure be happy to hear that."

Well, that had been fast. Just one day of initiative - or maybe he had found the not so well disguised message I sent. Innocent or not, he might take objection. I would find out.

"Before or after I suffered some C'baoth?"

"Before. He knows how impossible you get when you were around the Jedi."

"Figures," I mumbled. But was it my fault that C'baoth vexed me? The current instructions in politics were fine, but that couldn't last forever. Once he was shifted off to Wayland, I would have to be his contact here. And it was my head that was at stake. Except, if I could bring myself to sacrifice a random officer.

_Him or me?_

Could I? Would I?  
After all, I knew what happened when C'baoth took over your head. If he overdid you just died in the end. And that would be the end of my own agenda, too. Not to mention my life and all that. But could I knowingly manipulate C'baoth into taking the life of another. Me or him?

_Probably him._

That hurt.  
I am a coward.  
But I didn't want it to happen to me.  
_Coward.  
_Him.  
_Killer._

Despite this charming realisation, I managed to eat lunch just fine. So much for a clear conscience and its effects. Scarp that, it was certainly easier to eat with a guilty conscience than dead. Besides there was something that tasted a lot like Thai curry; minus the 'hot' part, but still.

I tried to gather as many arguments as I could find, knowing well that in case of need I'd be unable to remember any of them. With a bit of luck, some handy phrases would stick in my head. And I would not start with the real stakes anyway. One man at a time. I stepped into the antechamber.

There was no sign of Rhukh, and this time I didn't stop to say hi. Bacta or not, there were still two white lines running across my palm. I reached the other door without incident, wondering what kind of practice was going on outside my field of vision. Maybe it was better that I didn't know.

The room was again a replica of the bridge. Too see it in museum mode, I would probably have to break in and hit keys until something happened. That something probably being Rhukh. I marched up Thrawn slightly nervous. But he didn't even mention the message about Bafforr trees.

"So the battle has indeed brought up your true self," he regarded me. I think whatever he was measuring, it still fell miles short. "Interesting."

"Uh." I shrugged. "Not really, sir. It was sending all those death notes that did it, and I don't think this is who I usually am." I considered my normal life and mindset, comparing it with what had grabbed hold of me here. "No, really."

He tilted his head slightly, a real wealth of body language from him. "I was not referring to how you usually were, but how you really are."

"Oh." In that case, Arn would be happy to hear that the Grand Admiral did indeed misjudge me. Too bad it didn't win him anything. "Well, I thought of something you could do for me, a price so to speak."

He simply nodded.

"There was a scientist in the Clone Wars named Uthan. She did research on a nanovirus. I want it gone, eliminated, each and any traces wiped from the galaxy."

"Is that all?"

I regarded him for a moment. "It is a big galaxy, sir, with loads of information in many places where it should not be. Don't believe it a minor thing. But since you are offering, I would really like to know if you current project will end up as just clones again. You're breeding some highly intelligent _people_, you know. It might turn out awkward."

I saw him making more connections that I would have liked but that was to be expected. And it might just help to keep him from wiping out Jaing together with his data. If I remembered correctly that would be needed still.

"I am aware of the problem you refer to," he sounded thoughtful. "But a simple check on the regulations would have told you that to serve in the military requires citizenship of the Empire."

Ouch. My bad. But that was one thing I didn't have to worry about for now. Not that I could think up anything else right now that I wanted to bargain for. And for a change of template I had less than zero arguments.

"Good." Now that was a Nobel prize winning answer. No doubt the Grand Admiral would be impressed by my eloquence. Again.

"I am working towards peace and stability in the galaxy, Ms. Morrison," it was a scolding. "And I am well aware of the fact that apparent freedom and equality play an important role for many civilisations."

I decided to over hear 'apparent' for now. Maybe growing up in an oligarchy did that to you. And it is not as if I never had wished that some people were just robbed of their rights; or held hostage until intelligent thinking set in. Which reminded me...

"I might sacrifice one of your officers to save my head."

"I could order you not to." He leaned back.

I stared at him. Then I stared some more, before something dawned on me. "You could." We both knew how much use that would be.

"I see we understand each other." One corner of his mouth quirked upwards into almost a smile.

"I guess, as a puzzle I am a huge disappointment."

"I am used to that, humans are just not much of a challenge." He did not really sound disappointed, though. Probably looking forward to some Bothans or something. "And don't think that what you say to C'baoth will be heard only by him."

"Oh, " I shrugged, "I just prefer politics to madness, though it is a very fine line between those two."

Then he did smile. It looked good, but felt rather creepy. "Frankness is a peculiar weapon, Ms. Morrison. Many people don't even recognise it."

I shrugged, feeling myself blush. "I'm a klutz and clubbing people over the head with openness is just easier than spinning fine nets of deceit. Works well, too. Besides, Jedi can feel if you tell the truth so I am not having a lot of options there."

"You'll do fine." I just wished I had his confidence in the future. But then, he had me and I had nobody who could tell me what would happen. I mulled over the problem, but came to no solution. Maybe I was just bad at thinking straight when I was headed towards C'baoth. I but there was no way around him.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	29. 029

Twenty-nine 

If I had thought that C'baoth would take some time to teach me the machinations of interstellar politics, I had been wrong. Instead we were back at lightsabers. It seemed that his way of teaching was as erratic as everything else about him.

I held the hilt with both hands, trying not to be afraid of the blue blade. It hummed angrily as I waved it in the general direction of C'baoth. I expected him to scold me any moment, telling me not to hold it like an umbrella.

"No!" C'baoth said. "Don't hold it away from you like a bura-snake. It is an extension of your arm, of your self." He demonstrated the figure with practiced lightness.

I tried again, but didn't get far.

"No, no, no!" He batted my blade away with his. "You look as if you are afraid of your own weapon. How do you intend to project certainty like that?"

"But I _am_ afraid of it," I answered helplessly. "I don't think a klutz like me should handle something that dangerous."

C'baoth shook his head in disapproval. "Concentrate on the beauty of it, not the danger," he advised.

I tried. I really, really tried. Staring into the bright blue blaze, I tired to see only the beauty of it. Blue, what had blue been for? Green for duty, blue for - reliability? No wonder I had problems with blue. I stared at the blade. Maybe it was a hint; not that I like the idea, it scared about as much as the blade.

Darn, this didn't work at all. Might as well watch Rome burn and think it pretty.

"No!" C'baoth's voice cut into my thoughts. "You are still afraid. That is all wrong. And you will change your attitude towards the saber. Now!"

Easier said than done. "But I can't -"

"You can. And you will." He looked frighteningly determined.

"Or else?" I hoped it didn't sound as squeaky as I felt.

"You stay." He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at me pointedly.

And he did have a point. I wanted to get away. I knew, and obviously he knew, too. I looked from my saber to the Dark Jedi and back. I was so doomed. Again. But I could see he meant it. He'd keep me cooped up here until I had made peace with the weapon in my hands.

I swallowed and closed my eyes. It was marginally better, now that I didn't see the lightsaber anymore. But that couldn't last forever. Where was Mary Sue when you needed her? I reached out for the memories when I had been there, the lightsaber wielding uber-girl. That would have been really helpful now. Of course, my imagined lightsaber fighting had always been rather restricted to sparring. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

But then, what was the worst that could happen? I brought the blade closer to me, holding it up vertically before my body. The trick was not to cry from stress. And who knew? I might just end up at home again. And not shake with terror, that was important, too. I clutched the hilt with both hands. Home sounded like a good idea.

I brought the blade up to my face slowly, feeling the heat, smelling the ozone, hearing nothing but its hum thundering in my ears. This weapon is my life; it might as well be my death. I opened my eyes and stared into the white furnace right in front of my nose. I had to squint to see it, really, it was so close.

The trick was not to start shaking now. Though, since I never really liked the shape of my nose, it might be a perfect time to change that. I exhaled, watching my breath dissolve on the blade. No. It was my nose and my blade and the two would get along. Or else. I nodded; only inwardly, of course, because it would have cut a long story short if I had really done that.

"Has that been so difficult now?"

I shut the blade down and nodded for real. "Yes Master, it has." I felt sweat trickling down my back. "And I am not sure it will last."

"But the first step has been done." He took up attack his position again.

At the end of the lesson I was not worried about the saber anymore. I was much to exhausted for that. Still it felt decidedly odd to have it dangle from my belt. C'baoth had insisted that I take it with me. I felt awkward not the least dangerous, more like endangered. Whatever Arn would say about that. Or the Grand Admiral.

Not that they would notice before tomorrow. I concentrated on sorting mail again, paying attention to the small details of intergalactic message services. Amazing what a single changed letter could accomplish. Still, it would take a lot longer to send messages that were not traceable at all. So I would have to save them for important things. Unfortunately, sending Luke birthday greetings did not fall into that category. He'd have to wait, together with the rest of the galaxy, while I - well, tried not to bungle things too badly. The original outcome of these books was okayish.

The first thing I did in my room was take the lightsaber off. I glared at me from the desk but I tired to ignore it as I read files upon files of organisational procedure. I didn't know the first thing about military in general, and somehow I doubted that cinema and TV gave you an accurate picture.

_Cinema  
__TV_

I would probably never find out how good that Clone Wars animated movie had turned out. Or if the Exhibition in Brussels was the blast I had hoped for. And who'd come along. I stared at the monitor. No, I'd definitely never find out.

I stopped myself right there.  
Just stared at the screen and breathed regularly.  
The trick, as I said before, the trick was not to cry.

It took some time before I dared to move again, and then, it only was enough to get myself into my bunk and stare at the ceiling.  
Just don't think.  
Just _don't_ think.  
Just. Don't. Think!  
I still don't know how you can fall asleep under such stress, but fortunately, I did.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	30. 030

Thirty 

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!

Move it!!

.

I rolled over, not wanting to get up at all. So much for initiative. But I might have affected something, and that might just be enough. Positive thinking, that was it. And wishful thinking, I was even better at that.

My breakfast stared back at me for quite a while before I gobbled it down just in time to avoid getting blared at by my pad. I so was in no mood to do sports of any kind. Maybe I should 'accidentally' knock out Arn and be done for the day. The only drawback of the plan was that I had no idea how hard to hit him and I didn't want to risk hurting him permanently.

Bugger.

"Nice lightsaber you have there," Arn commented when I arrived at the gym.

"C'baoth made me carry it so I'd stop being afraid of it," I grumbled. "At least, it hasn't gone off until now and cut my leg off."

"Afraid of your own lightsaber?" He raised a brow rather eloquently.

"A weapon that can cut through almost anything is a bit big for me," I said. "Id rather have a vibroblade; or maybe a fish knife."

"We can adapt the training with the sticks so you could use it for the sabre, if you'd like. It won't be too difficult."

"By all that's beautiful and good, don't!" I burst out. "I'm having enough sabre-stuff already. Let me have some fun for a change. I sure do need it."

Training was fine, especially since it included the complete lack of anything connected to lightsabers. It felt much better to wield a simple stick. Oh, I could still inflict damage, but it was rather unlikely that I got through the floor or walls of the room, not to mention the hull. Not in a lifetime. Maybe I was just not used enough to the idea that all around me big chunks of nothing and vacuum tugged at the eggshell environment of the ship.

"So," I wanted to know as we ate lunch, "can you tell me when Thrawn will launch his attack to grab the mole miners from Calrissian at Nkllon?"

"Strange that you should ask," Arn replied. "It is scheduled for tomorrow."

Tomorrow, my day off. How very considerate. It would certainly spare me having to watch yet another battle. Not that I remembered many dying during that attack, but that didn't mean anything. How high was the body count in an average action movie? How many of those did you actually realise as people who die and are no more? Same difference.

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Oh, just curious," I said. "It will go well and bring in about fifty mining thingies. Not sure how many the Grand Admiral wanted, but it should be fine. You want to know what he wants them for, too?"

He shook his head. "I already do, but thanks for asking."

Well, it seemed that there was more to Arn than him being my personal babysitter. I would have to be a bit more careful around him. An intermediary to Thrawn was a nice thing, but I had not intended for that to run smoothly in both directions. Stupid, actually, when you came to think of it.

.

C'baoth was back to politics, mostly how come so much of it was in the end fought out with armies. And how to make sure your armies were the winning team. He had obviously seen my complete lack of strategic intelligence and decided to do something against it. Brave move, and even a little successful. Not that I'll ever be able to command anybody, but it did help to have moving blips of light do manoeuvres you had just read about. Suddenly the disco lighting made some kind of sense.

"Do you know there will be another attack tomorrow?" I finally asked him.

"Of course I do. In the super hot environment of the operation, my presence is of utmost importance."

I nodded. No sensors but a Dark Jedi; good planning. "Skywalker will be there."

He regarded me for a long moment. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Master. He will be there."

"How does Thrawn intend to deliver him to me?"

"The Grand Admiral doesn't know he'll be there." I looked around meaningfully. "It would be your chance to do what _you_ think best."

C'baoth got the message, and I am sure that suddenly a lot of electronics had little to show for the last minute. Crazy or not, he knew how to play deception.

"I will consider it." He gave me a long stare that seemed to indicate I was dismissed. I got up.

"Never forget, my Padawan," he called after me, " who is your friend, who your foe, and what your aiming for."

I nodded fake understanding. Wherever his mind had already gone to, I didn't intend to follow. "I will Master." I bowed and left.

At least, I just had to get through work now, before I could drop into bed and wake up to a wonderful day off. Somehow I had the feeling those didn't happen often enough. Maybe I should try to get divorced rich. Not that anybody in the Empire might earn enough to qualify.

I did not manage to hack my way into the payroll files, but not for lack of trying.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	31. 031

Thirty-one

_Geddiyup, Mellanna!  
__Time to play, so rise and shine!_

Sounded like Jes and Sey having the time of their lives. I should have been happy. Somebody cared enough to play those little jokes for me.

I pulled the blanket over my head. I did not want to. Not at all. I hadn't slept long in how long now? Too long, since I had come here. In the cell it had been too uncomfortable, and now - now I had my personal assembly of shout-me-awakes. I curled up with my back to the room. No, I would not get up. I didn't have to, this was my free day. I'd just go to sleep again.

Closing my eyes, I tried to relax. There was nothing I had to do. Everything could wait. Just one day, just one day I wanted for myself. That was okay, wasn't it? It had to be. This was my life after all. Who would I be if I couldn't even decide about my free day?

An Imp.  
Most likely.  
Well, I didn't want to. Right there and then, I just didn't want to. And who'd notice anyway? Toris. I sighed. That was not good. I liked Toris, it would be unfair, it was not his fault after all. And then there were Sey and Jes; wasting their time was not a nice trait either.

Ah, there I was again, nailed down nicely in the net of not letting somebody down. Very convenient. But I would not let it happen. I would. Not. Let it happen. I banged my forehead softly against the wall. Sometimes a small amount of pain was a good reminder of the fact that you could still feel anything, even if you didn't believe it. I did not want this.

_I do not want this  
__I do not want this  
__I do not want this  
__I do not want this _

And what about the others? Jes and Sey were just making the best of it. They took it in stride, a joke on them, but they would enjoy it at least. And Arn. I sighed, there was_ always _Arn. I was sure that was on purpose, I had to be anchored somewhere. There had to be somebody who understood.

_And don't you tell me how I feel  
__Don't you tell me how I feel  
__Don't you tell me how I feel  
__You don't know just how I feel _

I kept banging my head against the bulkhead. It would not be the first time I didn't want this. It would not be the first time this got me through. It was probably the end; it was _always_ the end. Burying my head in my hands I laid very, very still.

Shit!

.

I arrived at the simulators at eight sharp and was only a little out of breath. I hated everything in general; me and my life especially. Toris did not look any friendlier than on day one. Whatever he thought privately, did obviously not apply once you were a private again. I snapped to attention.

"You don't look fit to fly an Imperial fighter," he shouted at me.

"Sir, yes, sir!" I bellowed back. "I don't feel fit to do it either."

He looked me up and down. "Too bad the Empire can't take that into consideration. Off you go!"

"Sir! Yes, Sir!" I saluted and jogged off. What had I expected?

The lessons went okay. A part of me huddled up in a corner snuffling while the rest of me tried to ignore it and flew. It worked okay. I got shot down several times, but at least, I didn't wreck the fighter in the practice tunnels anymore. Well, not much.

Toris seemed happy with my progress, too; he kept shouting at me in very colourful language. I think, I am glad I didn't understand half of it. I did follow his example, though, and began swearing happily if things went unexpectedly boom. It was great for venting.

Jes and Sey did not wait for the second half of exercises to show up but joined us for lunch. Funny what that can do to your self-perception. I did not feel like the looser anymore who sat at his table all alone. Not that I ever experienced that, it was an American thing, after all. But I'll admit that the analogy of that happened to me pretty often in school.

Not anymore. I had three guys at my table, two looking good and one knowing clones. And, by default, I was also the best looking girl around. Maybe I should ask Thrawn to spring some make-up for me. Somehow I missed the weekendly ritual, painting myself and all that.

"In for a night out again, Mel?" Sey asked.

Could he read minds, or what? I shook my head. "I don't feel good."

"Best reason ever to do it," Jes poked his fork in my direction. "Get you mind on nicer things."

"We can surely get some music organised." They looked at each other with a grin. "Or even karaoke?"

"No, thanks." I kept stabbing my dessert. "I'm a horrible singer, you wouldn't want to hear that."

"Oh, I wouldn't know about that," Jes said smugly. "Last week you did a fine job, interesting choice of songs, too."

I wanted to bury my face in my dessert. Why had nobody frigging told me? Okay, I hadn't asked, but Arn should have know - oh, fierfek.

"Ain't she cute when she's embarrassed," Toris almost chuckled. "Just give us an advance warning if you do 'Vode An' again. There's some pretty heated feelings about that one."

I was sure Sey was trying his best not to fall of his chair laughing, and Jes was hiding his face suspiciously long behind his mug. It was a shame that the dessert bowl was too small to hide all of me. I couldn't remember any of that at all. Well, at least, _they_ thought it was funny.

I got up, shaking my head.

"All this sulking - it's not becoming for an Imperial soldier," Toris chided, getting ready to go, too.

I stared at him. "I am not becoming an Imperial soldier."

He winked and shook his head knowingly. "Aw, you'll get there. No worries."

"Right," Jes say patting me on the back. "For a girl, you're radiating an uncanny amount of testosterone."

"And that is very attractive to Jes here, who's actually a girl, too, only stuck in a man's body." Sey sniggered.

I was just glad when I was in the simulator again. At least, I could not give in to the temptation to pack a punch at Jes and Sey. And I had enough control over myself not to dish out some friendly fire. It was hard, though.

I got through the exercises, through the day and back into my quarter. There I flopped down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Another week was waiting for me. Another wonderfully detestable week. It was almost like work back home again. Only that here, I couldn't do pleasant stuff while working. There was no pleasant stuff to do here. Well, almost none. I closed my eyes.

I did not want this.  
But there was nothing else.  
And just one glass of ale wouldn't hurt now, would it?

And that is the reason I didn't update here.

--

Note: Lyrics by Trent Reznor; may he not sue my ass off.


	32. 032

Thirty-two

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!!_

_._

One glass, my eye! I should have known better.

I bounced off the bulkhead repeatedly on my way into the sonic, happy to lean against it's side. The one advantage over water: at least I hoped it worked even when you were not positioned conveniently in the middle. That ale was bad for mornings after. I should have asked for some of ES3's moonshine.

Still rubbing my head, I grabbed my pad. I would now find out, if konot-tea worked against hangovers or not. Maybe the effect was lethal, that would have been an improvement. I shuffled into the refectory, grabbed some tea and wafers and sat down. Instead of making me feel widely awake, the tea made me feel impossibly sick. Taking a huge swallow might not have been wise. For a while I simply sat there controlling my urge to vomit.

Then I took another mouthful. There was hope it _did_ kill me. It didn't. Neither did the second cup which I used to wash down that horribly bitter caf. Putting the wafers over it as a kind of stopper, I got up and went to the gym. This would not be fun. I sighed.

"I think I have to have a word with Jes and Sey," Arn said, looking me over with disapproval.

"Let's just get over with this," I mumbled.

He drove me through the warm-up exercises and they hadn't seemed so exhausting for a long while. He stopped me halfway through and I stood wheezing at the ground.

"What did you drink, Mellanna?"

"Ale," I replied, still trying to catch my breath.

"Forvish?"

"No, Corellian. And then they had Corellian Brandy, and then -"

"Corellian whiskey " Arn finished for me. "Did nobody tell you that drinking things mixed up is bad? I know nobody told you drinking too much was bad, but this?" He shook his head.

"Didn't mix up stuff," I insisted. "It was all Corellian."

Rolling his eyes, Arn threw two sticks at me. They bounced to the ground and I picked them up slowly.

"You realise that you are approaching a state of 'expendable' in big leaps recently?" He approached with his sticks in attack position.

Pressure again. I kept my head and arms down, pointing the sticks towards the floor. "Right now, I just don't care," I sighed, looking up. "You want to know how much I don't care?" I beckoned him on with my sticks. "Come on and, find out."

Arn shook his head giving up on his attack. "You're no fun when you're not fighting back."

I shrugged. "Funny, I find that fighting back is no fun."

"You cannot try to keep out of everything, Mellanna. You're right in the middle of a war and there's nothing you can do about it." He pointed his right staff at me. "So snap out of it already and spare me the drama."

Actually, I didn't want to. I had been snapped out for several days now and if there was any snapping I could see in the near future it would be at somebody or back. Or just snap. "I don't want to be in a war."

"Nobody wants to be in a war," he said exasperated. "And it is completely annoying that you can't motivate yourself worth shit."

I stared at my boots. He was right of course. "As a woman I am entitled to be moody."

"And as your superior officer, I am entitled to motivate any way deemed necessary. And if that includes," he measured me, "beating the living shit out of your unresisting body, I will. Because I do have a superior officer myself, who is not happy with your behaviour."

I sulked a bit longer. "Blast the Grand Admiral."

"Please, don't. We do need him." The conspirational grin was back on his face. "But since you seem unable to hold yourself straight today, let a lone a weapon, you're dismissed. Grab a bite and report to C'baoth."

I glared at him, but nodded. "As you wish."

"Come on, do and old Jedi Master a favour. He has to leave us today." Arn nudged me.

Hearing that, my mood lit up immediately. No more C'baoth! For a while at least, and that was worth something. Of course, it also meant I'd get an overdose of him today.

.

"Come in, Padawan," I could hear him through the doors even before I knocked. Probably a convenient voice placing technique of the Force. I entered and bowed. "Master."

"You have heard of my impending departure," he said softly, shaking his head thoughtfully. "I asked the Grand Admiral for your company, it would have been very educational, but he refused."

"I am sorry," I said, trying to feel it. It would have meant I'd have gotten to see Luke after all. "How long will you be gone, Master?"

"Too long considering the state of your education." He stroked his beard. "But I have no fixed time for my return. It will take as long as it needs."

"I will continue my exercises," I promised. "And if there is something else, I can do for you?"

"You will keep an eye on the Grand Admiral," C'baoth said. "I can feel that he has plans for you. Try and see him more often. I will let you know what to look for."

Now this was the part I had been scared of, but I had to do it. I swallowed. "Master, I am afraid that he will suspect me to be a spy for you. You should maybe consider to make somebody else your true envoy. Somebody who is not connected to me."

"I was thinking the same," he nodded approvingly. "Do not worry yourself about that issue." He smiled. "If you have enough plans running simultaneously, not even Thrawn can interfere with all of them."

"Yes Master." I bowed.

"Now for some final training and your exercises while I am gone…" He turned to the study corner.

It turned out to be physical stuff as well as essays of all kinds. And status reports on the Grand Admiral were to be placed conveniently in the latter. It could have been worse. Much worse. I got to keep my head to myself, and visiting Thrawn more often, yeah, I surely had a lot of influence on that.

As a good padawan, I saw him off to his shuttle. It was an odd position, half pupil half attendant. I wondered if it had been the same for other Padawans or if the attendant bit was only characteristic for C'baoth.

"May the Force be with you." I bowed and it felt strange to actually use this kind of goodbye on somebody.

"And with you, my Padawan." He softly put his hand on my head before he turned and left. I watched the ramp rise, wishing dearly, I could fly on a shuttle myself one day; they were so beautiful. I waited until the shuttle had left the hangar, and sped out of sight, then I let my shoulder sag. I had a break on one front for a while. Time to take a deep breath.

"Ready, Private Morrison?" Arn's voice came from behind me.

I hadn't even heard him approach. Maybe I should stop my daydreaming. "Depends on what you have planned for me next," I replied turning around. "Getting thrown to Rancors is not on my to-do list."

"Good for you then that we don't keep any aboard the _Chimera_," Arn retorted. "Hop hop, you don't let your superior officer wait."

"Yours or mine?" I asked falling in step beside him.

"Does it make a difference?"

"C'baoth told me to see Thrawn more often. He's convinced I make a good enough spy."

Arn pretended to be impressed. "Indeed! And I am sure the Grand Admiral will accidentally let some very interesting information slip while talking to you."

"What I thought," I sighed. "When did I exchange my sanity for this mad game, Arn?"

"When you stepped aboard, Mellanna. Sorry about that." He grinned and didn't look sorry at all.

"Okay, then let's get me crazier than ever."

"I don't think Toris will appreciate of that," Arn said with a wink. "Crazy pilots tend to wreck their fighters even more often than you do."

I chuckled. That would be quite an achievement indeed. To my surprise, I got to spend the whole of the remaining day in the simulators.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	33. 033

Thirty-three

.

_Get up and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!_

_._

_.  
_

For a Tuesday morning, I felt alright. If there was still something like Tuesday. This five-day-week was making me all fuzzy in the head. Maybe if I just cut Wednesday and Saturday from my count, I would do fine. Wednesdays - I used to meet with a friend on Wednesday evening. Junk food and slagging, good old times. I wanted one of those baguettes.

What I got was - wafers again and tea and tea and caf. Wahey! I wouldn't miss Saturdays as much, the people here probably didn't even know what Horror Punk was. And so far, I had not hear a single note aboard this bucket that was not an alarm. Wahey again. None that I could remember, that is.

I tried to remember some of my favourite tunes and it worked alright. The lyrics were getting patchy in some instances, but that couldn't be helped, could it? Maybe I should write some down just in case? I stared at my terminal, but was just too lazy to do it. Of course, I'd regret that later on, the day I couldn't even recall 'Limelight' or 'Don't Answer Me.' It was one thing to give up everything I ever wrote, but give up everything anybody ever created?

My pad blared at me. Whatever I would decide to do about it, it would have to wait. Grabbing the annoying piece of technology I jogged of to the gym. Where Arn had another surprise waiting for me. Instead of the two short sticks there was only one long one.

"Let's make sure you impress the Jedi Master when he returns," Arn grinned.

"You're pulling my leg, right?" I asked light-heartedly, though I knew he was dead serious. "No, really," I wanted to know, "what good will it be to impress C'baoth like that?"

"Mellanna, there are people on this ship who know that you are not Force-sensitive at all," he replied. "And the longer C'baoth is not one of them, the longer we can keep you both. So you will make some real progress with the saber and C'baoth will stay quiet."

I could have killed him. Well, actually not. I tried, but he's better at fighting than me.

"You'd never make a good Jedi anyway," he laughed at the end of the exercises. "You only fight well when you are angry."

"I just don't like to fight," I said. "I prefer things to be solved peacefully, or not having anything to solve in first place."

"Life must be hard on you then." He grinned mischievously.

I snorted. "Coming here was definitely no improvement."

No it most certainly had not. And a meeting with Thrawn later on would not make it any better either, because it would also be just another conflict, just another fight, just another time to rear up. But somebody had to do something - and as long as I believed that…

"The data you want destroyed is rather - interesting," he said, watching me with those glowing eyes.

"Maybe." I shrugged. "Learn from it what you will, but I don't want it floating around the galaxy. Nothing good will come of it."

Thrawn raised an eyebrow, all he needed to do to ask a question.

"It has nothing to do with your campaign, if that's what worries you."

"Not at all," he didn't seemed offended at all by the idea he might worry. "Considering the template the Kaminoans used, the data is interesting only for the systematics and general insights. I want to know why it is important to you."

Naturally, I blushed. "Do you know how many clones of the first generation deserted the army and where they went?"

"Do you?"

"Not really, but I have some ideas." I fidgeted. "And I think it would be pretty nasty to have escaped Palpatine's slavery and then end up - dead anyway. By a nanovirus that might have been created with the data of Dr. Uthan, many years from now, with all family and -"

"On Mandalore, yes." Thrawn folded his hands on the table and leaned slightly forwards. "I know, but why does it matter to _you_?"

My mouth went dry. I tried to find the answer but somehow… "Because it is not right," I began. "Because I have an absurd, but deep commitment for them. Because - because it is something I _can_ do. I think."

"And my clones?" He watched me carefully.

"Well, you said they're citizens. I'll see if you pay them and if they're treated like beings, and that they get a choice." I considered for a moment. "Though probably not immediately."

"Your double standards are - intriguing."

"Tell me about it." I sighed. "And no, the trees have nothing to do with the campaign either."

"They are a puzzle," he agreed, but it sounded amused. "Give me some more time."

I almost laughed, but grinned broadly. "If you get that one on your own, I'll go and thaw Csilla with an immersion heater," I promised. "And I'll even give you a hint. You might find some interesting bones on Bimmiel. But better be careful with the native animals, they're rather rabid."

"One planet as the location for a few bones?" His eyes flickered.

"Better than a whole galaxy," I countered. "And you would not find what you're looking for in it anyway."

"In that case, we better plant a lot more woods," he said suddenly very serious.

"Like hell," I agreed.

"When will they come?"

"In about fifteen years," I said. "That's why I start now. Forests don't grow on trees."

He nodded and I could just see the thought zapping around behind his forehead. And suddenly I was hit by one that was probably the most obvious ever. There would be a very easy way to fight the Vong, provided you got a plan, the troops and ships. Fifteen years were a long time and even if he would try Kaminoan, he'd have an army. That might be good. Or very bad. I should be more careful with the ideas I gave him. There was a very dangerous smile on his lips.

"I see you think what I think," he said, noticing my shocked expression.

"Certainly not," I objected immediately. "Because my head is full of words like 'cooperation', 'coexistence' and 'combined fleet.'"

He chuckled softly. It would have been a pleasant sound, if I hadn't had my mind full of pictures of dead Skywalkers, Solos and random others.

"I can see where the future might be very hard on you." I was not sure if he was mocking me, but I took the offered opening to excuse myself. Darn, I had done some real stupid things right now, hadn't I? If I was Thrawn, I'd grab some Spaarti technology, set it up in a separate place and when the time had come, there would be nobody around to keep him from plucking back all space from the Alliance that was stuck fighting the Vong. And best of it all, people would even thank him for it.

C'baoth's words came back to me. Yes, the Grand Admiral was conning you out of everything and you were grateful for it. I could have kicked myself in the butt for it. But I'd find a way to make up for that; I had to. And with my thoughts spinning, I sat down to sort some mail. Strange, I would have expected to get some more simulations. But I was thinking so hard, that I didn't even consider wondering about it.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	34. 034

Thirty-four

Oya Panda, my life is - a farce.

Arn kept trying to turn me into Zorro in three days. It was highly exhausting and also annoying. One blade just doesn't do the trick. I feel vulnerable and very tied up with both my hands around the hilt of my weapon. Not that anybody cared. At least, my training 'blade' is green. Though the colour is already flaking off.

And Toris, I'm sure he meant well, but I am not an engineer. I am happy to fly sims, it is not necessary that I understand how a ship _worked_. I wished. Instead I got classes about all kinds of ships, and though a single person will have the utmost troubles to fly a Star Destroyer all by themselves that was obviously not a reason to cancel them from my schedule.

I could already see myself hammering at random bits of technology with a hydro-spanner. Probably Toris saw the same, because I was not trusted with tools, but watched some repairs and maintenance. Highly exciting, I can tall you, or would be if you were interested in the mechanics of a ship. Still, I tried to look attentive and not let my mind wander. I really wondered why Thrawn thought I'd need this. Was I to go into space one day? And - all alone? Not very likely. I hope?

It was a worrying thought and made me pay some more attention. Even if it was just a ruse and intended to achieve just that I pay attention to ships instead of other things, I was to worried about being lost in space. There was too much of it around here.

And with all that exercising and flying and trying not to destroy ships while repairing them, I didn't get to see a single mail, and not a glimpse of the Grand Admiral. Whatever it was that was going on, it was hiding behind a huge wall of Keep-Mellanna-Busy.

With all the running around and being fit and capable and ready to fight it felt a lot like - well, what I had thought being in the army would feel like. It was kinda okay, especially since I always had feared that it would involve a lot more being shouted at, and generally having to do extra work.

I stared at my essay for C'baoth. Explaining the trade relations of the Corellian sector in 3,000 words was not that easy. Though probably easier than explaining the workings of the Old Republic in 5k including the role of the Jedi. That man was crazy.

And I felt like joining him there. Nothing I did had any effect, and those things I did do that effected the story, like blabbering stupidly in front of Thrawn, were not the kind of effect I would want. Darn, the man was probably thinking up a details long-term plan to take over the galaxy right now. But how long would that keep him busy? And then he'd be back and I'd be unable to hold my tongue again.

My forehead crashed onto the keyboard. Old habits just die hard. I sighed into the keys, noting that the ergonomic design had no effect whatsoever on my head.

_6z7_

Yup, that was probably just the kind of mystical revelation I needed. Thanks a lot Face-On-Keyboard-Oracle. I wasn't getting anywhere, and all the places that seemed worth going were out of reach anyway. When this was over, meaning TTT, I would just end up again like home: backwater place with a backwater-job and some Imps making sure I stayed in line. Invisible Imps that I couldn't even invite over for dinner.

So, where did I want to be? Apart from home, that was. Oh, how I wished to be home. I'd embrace the utter boredom that was my job, tell my impossible colleague he was the best for the job and should take over. Then I'd quite my job and spend a week with my boyfriend; there was lot catching up to do. And I'd visit my parents and do some really nice things for them, and take my sister out for dinner and start calling my brother regularly. And I'd make sure I'd see the people from my FanForce more often, and, and, and then the door beeped and everything fell apart.

To my surprise it was Sergeant Toris standing there. "Do you want to come in, or am I going somewhere?" I asked him.

"The latter," he motioned me into the corridor.

"Is that 'Sir! Yes, Sir!' business?" I followed him to the nearest turbolift.

"Half," he smirked. "You can leave the shouting out."

"Sir, yes, Sir," I whispered.

"That's almost insubordination, you know." His tone indicated that for now a bit of insubordination would be okay. Seemed that whatever was to come, was not official training business and did involve Cadet Morrison only marginally.

I grinned. "I am very good at 'almost,' Sir."

"I thought you were the all-or-nothing type?" He raised a brow.

"Oh, I do my best," I assured him. "But somehow I always end up at almost. I'm probably scared of complete commitment."

"Well." The doors opened and we stepped into a part of the ship that felt deserted. "This will be some education for you then." He ushered me through a door and had to push me all the way in because halfway in my legs stopped working. "Your view of the clones seemed pretty skewered," Toris finished. "I thought I'd amend that."

Then they took their helmets of and I stared at Temuera Morrison in his mid thirties, five of him. I stared at them for an indecently long time until I finally got a word out. "Wow."

Toris nodded at them, and in perfect unison four of them put their helmets back on and marched out so close I felt the air draught on my face. I was that close to fainting, but my body probably knew I'd suffocate on my own drool. Instead I just stared at the closed door for a minute. "Wow," I repeated myself.

"DV-384 this is Cadet Morrison," Toris introduced me. His tone indicated that he had been talking of me before, probably rolling his eyes about my views on clones. "Cadet Morrison, this is DV-384 from the 501st."

I snapped to attention automatically. "Sir!" There was no need to read subtle body language to realise that judging by my salute I fell very short of DVs expectations. It was sobering and I felt even more silly than around Pelly for this Imperial farce. I was tempted to relax and say sorry, but that would have made everything only worse.

So instead I sat down, folding my hands on the table, trying not to stare so obviously. "I don't know where to start, DV-384."

He didn't react much. Just sat down and calmly looked at me, it could have been anything from expectation to a challenge. Then there was an awkward silence while tried to think of something to say that was not heinously stupid.

"How long," finally started, "how long are you a stromtrooper already?"

"Fifteen years," he said.

More silence followed and I realised that this would be a much more difficult conversation than I had feared.

"Are you happy?"

"Are you?" he asked right back.

"Not that much," I admitted, shaking my head slightly. "Overall it's okay, but happy," I let the sentence trail of.

"So you have to admit that having a choice is not inevitably leading to happiness," he stated.

I sighed. "Will have to." Which led argument number one of Kal Skirata ad absurdum. What next?

"So were you," I hesitated, "created loyal to the Empire or the Emperor?"

"The latter," he even sounded proud of it. It was creepy.

"And when he was killed?" I wanted to know.

"We had the choice to join those who killed him or fight with those who tried to keep his legacy. What do you think?"

"Not a hard decision," I murmured. DV was completely unaffected by anything I said.

"Sergeant Toris mentioned that your assessment of a trooper's life was pretty off," DV suddenly said. "Why?"

"I mostly know from clones who were so dissatisfied with their situation that they deserted," I admitted. "They got wives and a life outside the GAR and all that. I don't know much about any who stayed." I felt the blood rush to my face.

"First off, we can marry, if we want to. Most of us consider it a waste of effort and a liability. Secondly, it is a good job, we are the best and have no reasons not to be proud of what we do. So third, what other kind of life is there and why is it important that we pursue it?"

He had me in all points. If pursuit of happiness didn't include a wife, children and a farm on Mandalore, why go there? Darn! He was so _Imperial_! Even for a talk like this his ramrod bearings looked so natural on him and I had difficulties imagining him in anything but a military outfit. His calm seemed unshakeable, and that accent!

Behind me, the door opened and Toris slipped out in silence. Okay.

"You will have to explain it to me in a way I can understand," I told Dave. Yeah. DV was completely out of the question. It would not do to think **DVeditor*** when I meant DV-384. Not. One. Bit.

"Because," I went on, "I grew up in an environment that values love and peace above everything. And I cannot see much of either in the kind of life you lead."

As it turned out, we had to pin down the meanings of things of importance first. Starting with love, peace, and happiness, that would probably take forever. I liked that idea very much.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.

* * *

* user at my home board...


	35. 035

Thirty-five

.

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!

Move it!!

.

.

Um. Shouldn't this be my day off?

I stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying to get the number of days straight in my head. But no matter how often I recounted, today always came up as my free day. Strange. Maybe it was my head; it felt as if I had spent the last evening banging it against a brick wall. Metaphorically speaking, that might just be true.

Dave was unmoveable. I have never before in my life argued that long and intense without either flying off the handle or affecting anything. I didn't even know how late it was when Toris dragged me away still trying to define the parameters of happiness. I hoped to get to continue that discussion. I really did, and not only because Dave was more than easy to the eyes and had such a voice.

He was intelligent. In a shrewd, imperial way, to be sure, but that man could think. And I felt as if I couldn't. That was not a nice state to be in. It was not that I questioned my existence (so far) but pretty much everything else I thought I knew had been shaken up. It was good that konot tea had a very determined way of ascertaining reality. I coughed on it a little, looking around in the refectory. But it was filled only with normal people.

Only normal people. Yep, that sounded like a brainwash. I was probably a bad person for wanting more of it. I was such a goner; surround me with good-looking men and my mind stopped working. Considering how my discussion with Dave had gone, that was unfortunately very true. That left only the question where my free day had gone to.

"Another one might turn up some time," Arn just shrugged. "You can't expect the war to keep to your schedule."

"But I am not important for this war," I objected. "Not now."

"It seems that the Grand Admiral is of different opinion. So you will watch the little intermezzo from the bridge."

My stomach knotted. "You mean, trying to capture Luke?"

Arn nodded.

That was so unfair. Whatever Thrawn wanted to effect with that, I didn't know. Maybe his crew didn't know how insensitive I was to the Force and would consider it a nice boost. I could believe that if I tried really hard. Or it was a lesson to me, and showing me the consequences of my action in the face.

"Can I get a sick bag?" I asked.

"What for?" Arn eyed me suspiciously. Maybe he thought I would try to suffocate the Grand Admiral with it. Maybe, I would really be tempted to.

"Just a precaution," I hedged. "I don't think the idea of me throwing up all over the bridge is any good."

"You are impossible," he said shaking his head. "But I am sure I can arrange it. Anything I should warn the Grand Admiral of?"

I shook my head. "I don't think anybody except me will find it very gross."

I could see that this didn't make the mysterious incident any less interesting, but I would not hand out death notes before the individual in question had kicked the bucket. I kept persistently silent on the topic for the rest of the exercises. Arn got the hint and we spent the remaining time in silence thick enough to cut into slices and eat on toast.

Only after lunch when my pad indicated I wanted to be on the bridge now, did he break the silence. "So I hear you are socialising with the five-oh-first," he asked.

"It feels more like banging my head against something solid and an Imperial brainwash, but maybe that is what the 501st understands under socialising." I rubbed my forehead. "My brain feels like somebody used a blender on it."

"We will still make a proper Imperial out of you," Arn chuckled.

"Maybe," I murmured. It was not something I really wanted. It would mean being at home in a life of rules and guidelines, obeying orders and having little space for 'almost insubordination'. I would be a part of something bigger, but to be truly happy about that, I would have to believe in it. And I didn't.

My gloomy thoughts came to an abrupt end when we reached the bridge. It bustled with activity; only Thrawn sat calmly in its centre like the eye of the storm. A freighter was methodically, if slowly blasted to rubble outside the viewport and even knowing that there was nobody in danger out there didn't make it much better. This happened for real all the time. Just because I didn't get to see it, didn't mean it didn't happen. And the crew was going at it with practiced ease.

If there had been a corner I would have liked to retire into it, but I wasn't even allowed to hide in the crew trenches. I felt the glances of the officers and Pellaeon was regarding me with the same imperial disgust he had before. Maybe he had it reserved especially for me. I wondered what he'd do if I told him that he was right about that one and I wished people would start adopting his stance.

Then the report of the arrival of Luke's X-wing stirred up the bridge. He was on the other side of the freighter so I couldn't see him. I clenched my fists and hoped - in vain.

"Unidentified starfighter, you have no chance of escape."

If only the comms man knew. I clenched my teeth and closed my eyes for a moment. But there was no escape. Luke vanished in a flicker of pseudo-motion and the bridge fell silent. I felt for my sick bag, trying to avoid Arn's gaze. Instead I followed Thrawn and Pellaeon with my eyes as they walked past us and came to a halt at a station that was clearly too close to us. I swallowed.

"Your name?" the Grand Admiral asked the man at the station. He was completely calm, it was creepy.

"Cris Pieterson," the young man answered. I tried to tune out of the scene unfolding, but it was like watching a car crash, one you know was coming. Thrawn listened to Pieterson's explanations and turned to his commanding officer.

I just wanted to run. Like in the movies, when I knew John Rambo was about to stitch himself up, I didn't look. Easy. I closed my eyes again.

"Do you know the difference between an error and a mistake, Ensign?" Thrawn's voice reached me.

The ensign became very pale, but held himself well for somebody expecting sudden death.

"No, sir," he replied and in the silence of the bridge it sounded like thunder.

"Anyone can make an error, Ensign" Thrawn began, "but that error doesn't become a mistake until you refuse to correct it."

Though I had promised myself not to look - it was over before I could see anything. Pieterson didn't even have the time to scream. Rhukh's movements had been but a blur. I felt my lunch trying to come up. Arn patted me on the back, while I gurgled to myself. The sick bag was being kneaded well, but in the end I didn't need it. I was not sure if that was a good thing or not.

Maybe I was to wonder if I could have saved him. I might just, but, I swallowed the last remains of bile, but Luke wasn't worth giving up for him.

"Can we go now?" I asked Arn, but he shook his head glancing at Thrawn.

I took a deep breath and braced myself. I could handle this. There were procedures. I guessed. And I could always hope I looked a lot more self-confident than I felt as I walked up to him. I saluted as well as I managed, not caring if I made a fool out of myself in front of the whole crew.

"Private Morrison asking permission to leave the bridge, sir."

If I had hoped to be immune to his scrutiny by now, I was immediately proved wrong. I had a lot of squirming to catch up on once I was back in my quarters.

He measured me up and down, the glance stopping a moment at the sick bag clutched in my left. "Permission granted," he finally said.

"Thank you sir." I saluted again and marched off. Only when I came to a halt in front of the turoblift did I look around to see Arn following me. He was either trying hard to suppress laughter or he had a cramp in his jaw. For a moment I just wished it was the latter.

"So, what are you planning now?" he wanted to know.

"Find me a fresher and be sick," I told him, getting off at the very next stop.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	36. 036

Thirty-six

The morning began with a ringing silence. No waking call, no blearing pad, nothing. I rubbed my eyes in surprise, got the lights on, and realised I had slept in major; it was almost noon. Looking around did not solve the mystery, but I did it anyway, trying to get my head clear and ready for thinking.

After a long moment I decided to get up and see what this was about. Taking the time for a real shower, I wondered how you got scented soap on a Star Destroyer. Maybe I should go looking for a shopping mall later.

Breakfast was - extended. Now that I had time, I tried almost everything on the menu. Some of it was worse than caf and had to be washed down with tea, but in general the food was good. Still, in the usual hurry of my mornings those wafers were the easiest solution. And maybe I would really be better off if I just assumed that yellowish stuff really was scrambled eggs.

Another reason I took so long was that I didn't really know what to do next. Exploring she ship sounded like fun, but once I called up the floor plans it became boring pretty soon. The most interesting bits were indeed the bridge, the officers messes and hangars. Nothing else had any view, either.

In the end, I just trotted off in the direction that was marked 'provisions'. It turned out to be storage mostly with small outlets for uniforms or small equipment. Seemed that if you really wanted something unique up here, you'd have to get it on shore leave. That was one thing I was most likely not about to experience. Maybe I could talk Arn into bringing me something - anything really - from anywhere. Provided he got anywhere without me.

For a while I just tramped around the Chimera. It was really rather boring, and most doors were locked against casual entry. There was absolutely nothing to see. There was absolutely nothing to do.

Finally, I ended up at the gym. There was a free bit and out of boredom I picked up the sticks and went through a few forms. It went okay. And it did feel good to have two sticks again, but somehow it was not the same without Arn shouting at me and bemoaning my stance. For a while I toyed around, but it was really no fun.

A quick research yielded that there was no central library either. The social component of one was probably thought useless since you could access all information at your terminal. Not that I was a very social person. I think. I thought. And I couldn't even comm Jes or Sey or anybody for that matter because somebody had consciously forgotten to tell me how to do that. Somebody I couldn't even complain to, since I couldn't comm him either. I returned to my room.

There had to be manuals on that somewhere. Diligent search should be able to bring up the information I needed. Even google could yield useful information at times. As I soon found out, somebody had also forgotten to expand my access to the system. Most pages that might have been useful came up with 'Access Denied' screens, those that actually worked said nothing about the proper use of a pad.

I was even denied access to the emergency routines of the ship. Maybe somebody wanted me dead in such a case. Maybe I agreed.

But that didn't solve the problem of impending boredom the least. I drummed my fingers on the desk. Somehow I felt that writing fanfic was out of the question in my current situation. I stared at the screen. Was there anything worth writing down? What use would it be here?

None, really I decided. So it was just the question whether I wanted to keep anything? Because anything I forgot here was forever lost. There was no google or wiki to look things up, there was only me. And I was - forgetful. Suddenly my head felt very heavy. I placed it in my hands and rubbed my temples. If only it would have been important to posterity in some way, then the answer would have been easy.

_i__f I could see the sky above and my mind could be set free*_

How long did it take you to forget that? Five years? Ten? Twenty? I couldn't remember half the poetry I loved, so how secure a place was my head? And it was not as if I had anything better to do, was it? I stared at the empty screen again. How I hated this. They gave me just what I had been wanting only to have me I find out I could do absolutely nothing with it. I filed the question for later use on Dave. Then I began to hack down on the keyboard.

I knew how far I could trust my memory and if I was really stuck here, if I was really stuck here - what if I ever managed to get out of this Imperial trap and, like found a family. Wouldn't I want to pass on anything from my youth? It's not as if I had to mention where I got things from, this was a huge galaxy. Planetary whatever. I'd find a way to cover up.

Too bad I had no way to save down melodies. I mean, I could try and sing them, but what about recognisability? I could wrack my brains over that later. Same with systematics. I would need some kind of wiki to organise everything. But for that, I needed something to file. Everything, I needed everything.

I didn't realise how long I had been typing stuff, but at one point my stomach demanded I pause and give it something to eat. A short glance at the clock told me that it was late evening already. The file I had was long, garbled and confusing, but I felt that it secured at least something. Saving it carefully, I went for something to eat.

I only shovelled down something, grabbed a mug of caf, washed everything down and returned to my room. I was the only source. The last one remembering.

_you are the only light there is, for yourself my friend**_

Darn sprinkles of Russian. I'd never ever get those right. So, memo to self, in unlikely case of return, learn Russian. And Japanese, because _ame ga mika tzuzu kuto***_ might mean nothing really. Phonetic writing, in the real phonetic letters, that would have been useful now, too. But all I could remember was schwa and that didn't help any.

It turned out that I knew a lot more unimportant stuff that I had thought. But after another cup of caf, I just decided to jot down some important things too. There was a lot more than expected of that, too.

And so I was much too busy to update here.

* * *

* To One in Paradise - Alan Parsons Project

** Illumination - Gogol Bordello

*** It Rains For Three Days - Angela


	37. 037

Thirty-seven

.

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!

Move it!!

_Move it!!_

_Move it!!_

_._

_._

After three more days, I still didn't feel any more like Zorro that at the beginning. Not for lack of trying, mind you; it was probably just the lack of accent and not looking like Antonio Banderas at all. And maybe the fact that I still had to fight with both hands on one hilt and could not flourish my non-existent cape while shouting 'engarde!'.

Or it was the fact that Arn didn't have a clue what I was talking about. Cultural in-jokes are fun, but if you have nobody around to share they fall kinda flat. Arn didn't know Zorro. Neither did he know Superman, Batman, Sipderman, Mutant Hero Turtles, or any cultural icon I could think of. Except of Vader, but he was culturally connotated very differently here. Nobody would laugh if I said 'no, I am your father' at an awkward time.

Any reference I had for funny occasions got nothing more that a raised brow, come to think of it. I wanted my cultural background back. I wanted to say 'but why is the rum gone?' and 'du hast doofe Ohren' and things like that. It made me want to cry. Arn was sympathetic. He patted my shoulder and suggested I grab a slice of GFFA culture to refer to. Tell you what, it's just not the same.

And why would I ever want to get into superheroes here, when I didn't really like them at home? And my favourite literary genres were nonexistent because places like that did exist and Fantasy was the same as SciFi and also the same as rl novels. It made me angry. I fought Arn as if it was all his fault and he was happy with my progress. I hoped that I never got a chance to impress C'baoth with it, but that was vain.

I got to see Sergeant Toris only on official cadet business which meant he shouted a lot at me. I crashed a few fighters, but Jes and Sey were also their professional selves and there was no chatter. If only I had gotten an evening off with them, but no. Instead I got some more lessons with Arn, no conversation with Thrawn and had to keep up with the workload C'baoth kept sending me. Hallelujah! I got the feeling he didn't think I had anything else to do. My use of caf soared and my mood dropped. It was probably better that I didn't get to talk to Dave again, I might have tried something violent and ended up in the med bay.

I had to go there anyway. Some tests were done and then I got two shots. The doctor worried about my blood iron and iodine levels. That was nothing new. I guess that the other shot was contraception. Theoretically, I could now sleep with the whole crew. Only that half of it was way to young and the other half, well, I better not think about it. Okay, _that one_ I did think about, but hey, what did you expect? Not that I had any way to contact him at all.

Instead I spent my evenings madly typing down everything. There seemed to be no end to what I remembered, though my history of the human race left out more than it included, I am sure. And how was I to explain string theory when I never really got it? Maybe it didn't matter here, the GFFA might well have it's own way of fuzzy logic.

I did get to use a hydrospanner for real, too. I guess the ship was written off before I approached it, or some techs were in need of some training. The lesson was a complete success. I managed to do things and not blow everything up. I wasn't sure if Toris saw it similarly, but he looked happy enough once I had dissembled the dampers and then put new ones in and even could explain what I had done and what would hopefully happen. Then I fervently hoped he'd never ask me again, because I would surely have forgotten the very next day.

Wiping off my hands, I suddenly got an idea. "Sir, could you help me with another matter?"

He cocked his head slightly. "What matter?"

"I would like to know, how to use my pad for comm calls."

The way he regarded me, I was sure he was making all the right connections, but he didn't say anything. Instead he got out his pad. "This is the comms menu," he explained. "You file the comm codes here and access them through this list, if you don't dial them directly over there." He flipped through several screens.

"How do I get the codes?" I wanted to know, opening the menu on my own pad.

He held his pad up against mine. "If we're both in the comms menu, it works on its own."

A number appeared on my pad, and the query whether I wanted to add it to my list. I found out how to on my own and saved Toris' name with it. "Okay," I nodded, calling up the number in the menu and calling Toris. His pad beeped dutifully.

"There is a directory, too, with nodes of all the ships sections. You can ask your way through from there." He grinned tightly. "Have fun with that."

Obviously, that was all the help he intended to give me. But that was okay, I would get to Jes and Sey. Okay, okay, I admit it, I'd probably get to Dave first. There was an unfinished conversation I wanted to continue.

"Thank you, sir." I was about to walk a way happily and make some calls, when I ran headfirst into Ensign Arn.

"Time to go," he said taking my arm. "But you need to change first."

Flabbergasted, I didn't even offer any resistance as he dragged me off.

And that is the reason, I didn't update here.


	38. 038

Thirty-eight

Arn rushed me to my quarter. "Ten minutes," he said as he shoved me in. "Or I'll come and get you - as you are."

Befuddled I stumbled through the room into the fresher, barely seeing the stack of folded clothing on my bunk. Wasn't it nice to know that people could wander in and out of my room as Thrawn wished? I set the sonic to max, and managed to be out of my room almost fully dressed before the time was up. Not that the new uniform was anything fancy. It was beautifully black with different applications on the sleeves and collar, also I got nifty black gloves and a name tag.

Arn appraised me shortly before herding me off again. "What is it?" I wanted to know, when I got my breath back in the turbolift.

"You will go down to the surface, and you will be acting as Imperial liaison, so don't embarrass us." He handed me a pad. "The specifics of your mission. And don't look at me like that. I had nothing to do with it."

I'd believe that like hell. Skipping through the screens I found out that as long as I was on Myrkr, I had to keep contact with the local administrator, make him cooperate and generally pull information from him. Laughable. I mean, the local administrator of Myrkr was Talon Karrde. He could play those game better than me, he might even be a match for the Grand Admiral. I shook my had in resignation. Plans within plans. I just shoped Thrawn had calculated everything correctly.

We arrived in a hangar bay and Arn took a moment to put my uniform into parade optic. "May the Force be with you." He nudged me up the ramp.

"And with you," I replied before I reluctantly ascended. Obviously, I was the last to enter, because as soon as I stepped of the ramp it began to ascend. There was exactly one free seat left and it offered me a perfect view of the back of Tharwn's head. I tried not to swallow audibly as I sat down. The other officers looked at me with the usual mix of disgust and superiority. I was getting used to that.

I returned my attention to my pad. This was the only time I would get to brief myself on the mission. Somehow I got the feeling that somebody planned for me to fail spectacularly. Why else would I get such bad preparations? Great. That left just the question if I would play along and fail or just wouldn't. I thought of Dave and how I wouldn't get to call him now, and wondered which option would bring me back aboard the Chimera fastest.

I wished for a stormie's helmet right then because then I would just have called that stupid node of the 501st and - well acted stupid. The shuttle took off and I tried to ignore everything that was not on my pad. Maybe I could do _something_.

When we had landed, I easily found my place in the file of officers by being unceremoniously shoved there. Rank and file worked very well with sharp elbows. We filed out and the first thing I noticed was the air. It smelled fresh, of air and of trees. There was the wet scent of soil and a fragrance like blooming trees, very subtle. I don't think I ever smelled any trees in bloom except lindens at home.

I saw Karrde approaching us and tried to be as Imperial as everybody else. Thrawn was following us, so I had yet another incentive not to stumble, roll down the ramp and greet mother earth in person.

Instead I relished in the smell of the air. Would anybody notice if I picked up a stone? Or grabbed a handful of leaves? I didn't pay attention when Thrawn and Karrde introduced themselves because I was just realising that I was on the same planet as Luke Skywalker. Then I had to concentrate on not letting my jaw drop, and it became even harder when I remembered that Han and Lando were here, too. Holy Sith!

"On the contrary," I tuned back into the conversation with effort. "Your assistance with the ysalamiri has left us in your debt. How better for us to repay you?"

"How better, indeed?" Karrde agreed none to happy. Maybe he already knew that help would not be the only thing happening. A dark memory about a temporary garrison tried to get my attention, but Karrde led us away and I focussed back on my surroundings. Several sheds lined the camp at one side, and Luke had escaped from one of those. I could also glimpse the hangar, but somebody was wisely closing the doors. The main building was unspectacular to the extreme and probably easy to dissemble.

As expected, I didn't get to listen to them talk. Instead I was dispatched with the rest of the gang and got a tour of the compound. A sure-fire sign that Karrde would pull out soon as he could. I wondered if I could drop back and go MIA without anybody noticing, but Karrde's people kept a close watch on us. Such a pity.

After the tour there were refreshments. Inside. I looked out of the window longingly imagining how I'd make a complete idiot out of me on our way back and stumble and fall just so I could get a stone. Something that was real. Something that was not Imperial grey and Star Destroyer mass produced.

Finally, Thrawn returned. I got back into the line but he took me aside for a moment. Karrde tried to split his attention between us and the rest of the gang.

"Is Skywalker here?" the Grand Admiral asked quietly, and I could hear in his voice that he strongly suspected it.

"If he was, would I tell you?" It was not a lie. But maybe 'no' would not have been a lie, too because Luke was not here but in the wood. I swallowed.

He regarded me for a moment, then signalled for Rhukh. And I found myself suddenly sporting a huge and ferociously bleeding gash in my arm. Nothing dangerous, I am sure, and the knife was so sharp, it didn't even hurt. Not that that would keep.

"Obviously not, but maybe you have reconsidered once you get back from the medics."

"If I get back." I glared at him.

"When you get back." His tone didn't change one bit; it was amazing and annoying. Thrawn turned to Karrde indicating me and saying something.

I simply watched the blood dripping from my arm and pooling in the ground. So much fro my shiny new uniform, And I had so liked the black. Maybe I could get it sewn back together - Somebody grabbed my other arm and dragged me away; one of Karrde's people.

"Sorry," I murmured.

"Looks worse than it is the young woman assured me. "We'll have you patched up again in no time."

I sighed and from the corner of my eyes saw Thrawn entering the shuttle.

"Um, are they leaving without me?" I wanted to know.

"Looks like it. Wanna stay?" She laughed at her joke.

With a whine the three shuttles rose to the air and suddenly I felt very small and very alone in a very strange place. The idea of picking up a stone dropped from my mind like one. What was going on?

When we reached the medic, I was almost crying.

"No worries." The medic was an elderly man. "Does it hurt bad?"

I shook my head biting my lip, and held my arm out to him. To my alarm he just cut off the sleeve to remove it. Something cold bit into my arm and it went numb. In horrified fascination I watched as he closed the would. It was a mix between sewing and using staples and it looked very painful. The irrational wish to have Arn around to hold my hand came up, immediately followed by the scowling image of Dave.

"You will stay here until the Chimera leaves," the young woman whose name was Irija informed me. "That will be soon, but the Grand Adrimal wants to dispatch some troops to help us with our recent problem." Her mouth was tight.

"Let's hope he'll take them back once Jade and Skywalker turned up again, huh?" She stopped short and I suddenly felt the urge to pick up a stone. Anything to distract from what I said.

"How do you know?" Irija demanded.

"Oh, I just - know stuff. And don't worry, I didn't tell the Grand Admiral. That's why I have this." I held up my bandaged arm, wondering what I was doing. Deserting? Here and now? Why not, it was as good a time as any. If I wanted to go, the time was now. I looked up at the sky where the Chimera was not to be seen.

And he'd had me again. Testing loyalties, huh? Well, not with me, young Admiral, not with me. He'd have to set up his traps a lot better than that if he wanted me to - well, what did he want me to. I squeezed my eyes shut, sighed and tried to think. What did Thrawn expect me to do? What would I do, would he expect that, expect that I find out and then do something different, or did he think I'd go on just to show I could? Or something else completely? My head was spinning.

"You better talk to Karrde." Irija pulled me away.

"But he's with Solo and Calrissian," I objected.

She stopped again for a second then dragged me into the main building extra fast. "Not very much longer!"

She locked me up in a small room and nothing to eat.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	39. 039

Thirty-nine

Well, it really didn't take long. I had not even started picking at my bandages when Irija returned and dragged me halfway across the compound. At the other end waited, yes, you guessed it, another room. But this one was different. Not only because it was much bigger and almost pretty, but also because it was already occupied not only by Karrde, but Han and Lando were with him, too.

I tried to look where I went instead at the two of them but I must have gawked. I mean, who wouldn't? That was Han friggin Solo right there and Lando Mr. Charming Calrissian! Not that he looked as if he was about to charm anybody. The felt temperature in the room was below zero by many degrees.

I slumped in the only free chair and stared at everybody in turn. Except for Irija, because she left again. So this was really Star Wars. I was in the same room as Han Solo and Luke Skywalker was just a few miles away for real. It was a very creepy kind of cool. And it also showed me what was at stake. Shiny Empire and flying sims was all very well, but it was not _all_ there was. Not by a long shot.

"So the Empire knows Luke is here!" Han burst out suddenly. He almost levelled an accusing finger at me, too.

"Um, no," I replied truthfully. "Though Thrawn might figure it out later. Not that he'd come back then. I think."

"You think?" Han almost lunged across the table. Lando put a calming hand on his arm.

"I am not perfect on all the details, but as far as I remember -" I saw the incredulous looks on three faces and stopped myself. "Um."

"Let's try to sort this out logically," said Karrde. "You know who is here?"

I nodded.

"How?"

"Um." I said that a lot lately, it was a habit I'd better break. "Like, I can see the future?" I suggested.

Lando raised a quizzical brow but remained silent.

"Do you mean you are a Jedi?" Han was more surprised than ever. "What do you want with the Empire then? They wiped out-"

"I know my history, but thanks." Wow, I had actually interrupted Han Solo. Good thing he didn't have Chewbacca with him to dislocate my arm for that.

"So you claim to know the past and the future." Karrde stated. "Proof of that?"

I did a classical facepalm, but unfortunately used my cut arm. It hurt bad. "Let me see, past." I considered. "You," I pointed at Lando, "had that droid thingy that turned out to be a living being or something, called Wuffi or something. You got kicked out of the Empire for saving Chewbacca and there was Bria, you used the name Vyyk for a while." I hoped Ale's information had been canon, or might just be fried. "And I could tell you", I turned to Karrde, "some interesting stories about a man called Car'das."

He paled a bit, but seemed more intrigued than scared. "I'd like to hear that."

I couldn't help but snigger, "you won't get it from me but maybe Thrawn cares to remember if you ask him nicely." I had achieved complete silence in a second. Fun.

"You are full of dangerous information, Ms. Morrison," Karrde said thoughtful. "Why should the Grand Admiral let you run wild down here?"

I shrugged. "Beats me? Maybe he wants to give me the chance to desert and see how I'd go about it? Not that I'd get anywhere, mind you. He's too sharp for any of us. What I think is, he wants me to make a huge fool out of myself, that's one thing I don't even need help for, and then I need to drop some hints about your future."

Han laughed. "Why should I believe a word of what you say?" He leaned back. "The Empire doesn't want to help us, it wants to destroy us."

"The Empire you knew", I objected. "The Grand Admiral might bring about a few interesting changes. After all, he's not the model Imperial citizen himself, being an alien and all that."

Lando and Han both had the look of stupefied surprised nailed to their faces while I was sure Karrde was about to do a headdesk. Information cost money and here I was giving it away for free. Bad business.

"Anyway," I went on, "here's the plan. I know the Republic won't just agree to cooperate with the Empire, so we'll almost defeat you. Then both sides can send emissaries that beat each others' heads in until something sensible happens. With a bit of luck, the whole situation will have stabilised by the time the Vong invade."

I grinned like a madwoman, and they looked at me as if I was just that.

"Vong," said Han. "You are crazy."

"Unfortunately not," I replied. "But if they invade and thing go as they went, you'll be the very unhappy father of the galaxy's next Sith Lord. I'd like to avoid that."

Han gaped. Funny, he never seemed to just be there, he was always actively expressing himself.

"If you want, I can give you the whole sad story, starting with the death of Chewbacca, that of your third child, and then there's your son killing Luke's wife and seducing his son before he gets killed by his sister. How does that sound fort a future? Better enjoy your happy family while you can."

That was too much, Han was up and over the table faster than I could react. Of course, he got my hurt arm and squeezed it hard. "Keep you lies to yourself, _schutta_," he hissed.

But I could see I had actually unsettled him. So this would probably be worth it in retrospect. And after I had gotten another medic to patch up my arm a second time. I watched as blood slowly seeped though my bandages. Then I looked up at him. "Ouch?"

He followed my gaze and let go of my arm as if he burned his hand.

"Thanks," I mumbled and cradled it in my other hand. "I'm just trying to help. Don't worry about Luke, he'll get out of this fine. And Mara will not kill him," I added looking at Karrde.

"Why didn't you tell the Grand Admiral," Lando wanted to know.

"That would have killed Luke," I burst out. They gave me strange looks but I didn't care. "If I wanted you all dead, I could have told Thrawn you're here, he would have taken very terminal care of you. Well, maybe not so terminal, because you're good bait for Leia, but anyway," I jumped up and took a step backwards as Han tried to grab me again.

"No worries," I tried to calm him. "She'll be fine. Safe, I mean and she'll get you very useful allies so please leave my arm be." I told him about the incidents on Kashyyyk in as much detail as I dared. Then I sat down again and tried to ignore the pulsing in my arm.

"So, if any of that turns out to be true, please consider my suggestions. If you work on your side, and I work on the Admiral things might just work out. You can't save the galaxy all on your own."

"Will you give us more information?" Lando again. He might not be sweet-talking but he was a smooth business man. I had to smile.

"Sure, hand me a pad and I'll give you some. You too," I added with a glance at Karrde. Then I took the pads and sketched some incidents I'd rather avoid, like the Yevethan thing, and how it would be convenient to send some help to Emberlene and that Luke should try to contact me, if he ever wanted to find some students to rebuild the Jedi Order. At that point I made a huge mental note to myself before going on to rant about the Vong invasion and how people should go planting Bafforr trees and needed to find that Zonoma Sekot planet.

In the end I was pretty proud of myself. "If things work out as planned, the Empire and Republic should start talking in under a year. I'll be there. I hope."

For a moment I was ignored as they scrolled through their pads. "It's not much, I admit, but since you don't believe it anyway, what's the damage?"

Karred looked up and bore a very thoughtful expression. It was probably the part where I speculated that instead of vanishing Car'das had been kinda recruited by Thrawn to fight that threat in the Unknown Regions. I tried my best innocent look.

Suddenly, the door crashed open. "He's putting up a temporary garrison!" shouted a young man in distress.

I shrugged. "After giving the Imps a tour, I thought you'd move anyway. So what's the fuss?" The whole room glared at me and I tried to hide behind my hurt arm. "Um. I think, I'll see the medics again?" I stood up and tried to slink out.

"Not so fast!" Han again, and - again - he grabbed my hurt arm. I was about to slap his face. Instead I just inhaled sharply and said, "ouch, again."

Oh, and I fainted. That smuggler has a firm grip. I'd tell you if I wasn't blacked out.

And that is the reason I didn't update.


	40. 040

Forty 

It would have been nice to come to looking into the face of somebody who cared. Instead I had to make do with Irija and something very smelly. The smelly thing turned out to be a small plastic container in her hand. Fortunately, she removed it from under my nose soon as I regained consciousness. I might just have thrown up otherwise.

"Get going," she ordered.

To my own surprise I could get up and walk without feeling sick. My arm throbbed nastily, I wondered if I would get painkillers if I asked nicely. A glance to Irija made me doubt that highly. I sighed and resigned myself to whatever came next. "What now?"

"We get rid of you in a mostly friendly way," Irija said.

I nodded and stopped at the edge of the forest inhaling the green scent. Then I plucked a small twig off and picked up a random stone for good measure. Putting them into pockets for my ruined uniform I turned to Irija. "Ready whenever you are," I said.

She eyed me suspiciously, but I just shrugged. "Try living on a Start Destroyer, you'll never find a single stone or leaf." I think she way about to laugh at me at that point but I didn't care. I let myself be packed into a speeder shipped off.

I think I got off in Hyllyard City, mostly because it was the only city on Myrkr I knew about. Also there was this stone arch. It looked nothing like what I had imagined. For one thing it was not very arched but looked more like one of Picasso's cubic dreams, and it didn't have any relief chiselled into it. It really didn't look like the Arc d'Triumph in Paris at all.

The building we arrived at looked funny, too. A huge half-circle of stone sat on it's roof doing nothing. It was the weirdest decoration I had ever seen. But then, it was also the first alien decoration I had seen. For a while I just stared.

Then Irija pushed me out of the speeder. "This is where our ways part."

Left alone I started to walk towards the hotel. I assumed it was the hotel, because, if I recalled correctly, that was where the garrison would set up its HQ. But then I decided to do some exploring instead. Maybe I would get lost. I walked down the main road and took the first intersection to the left. The houses were all of stone and build with different kinds of stone, they looked striped and I rather liked it. There were no people to be seen, though, Not that it surprised me. When the Empire moved in, you moved out. Or kept your head down until you could.

I found something that looked like it was the shopping district and gazed into the windows of the shops. It was amazing how normal things seemed so unreal and extraordinary in such a context. There were clothes, a light blue outfit of loose pants and a shirt cut like a tunic with light cream coloured piping. A bright red cloak lay over the shoulders of the dummy and a broad blaster belt rode low on her hips.

I wondered how it would be to wear something like that to an Con. I wondered how the Con would be anyway, was it over already? Had anybody wondered where I was? I counted the days and came to the conclusion that the Jedi-Con was still to come. Wistfully I stared at the blue outfit.

A hand took my arm from behind. Why was it always the hurt arm? I hurled around and brought my left fist up, not that I could hit anybody with it, it was just a show of annoyance. And when I realised that I was staring straight at a stormtrooper, I was glad I hadn't even tried hitting him. That would have hurt bad. Instead I lightly bumped the fist into his chest plate.

"Ouch!"

There was no reaction and I rolled my eyes. I know why they are thought to be dumb. Suppressing the wish to kick his shin, I indicated the arm he held. "I have a bad cut right in my arm right where you are trying to squeeze through my bone," I informed him. Then I held up my other arm. "Try this one, okay? Or I'll kick your shin."

Again, no reaction, but I felt better. And he did take hold of the other arm. Rather annoying because I felt the urge to hold my hurt arm.

"Move it." He dragged me away.

"I don't even have money to buy anything, what damage in looking?" I wanted to know. "And there was a tea shop down the road, hear me? Tea! I really wanted to go in there and take a real deep breath. I can't get any air freshener aboard the Chimera." I rambled on. Mostly because he wouldn't react anyway and venting felt good. But I really would have liked to go window shopping.

The hotel loomed up in front of us and I sighed. "Go, me," I murmured.

He placed me on the stairs. "Don't move."

Nodding I began to sit down, when his arm suddenly shot up. "Okay, okay," I said straightening up again. "Not moving, I got it."

He turned away and left me standing there. I felt ridiculous, for quite a long time, too. I was about to wonder, what the repercussions for sitting down would be when an Imperial speeder stopped at the foot of the stairs. A couple of stormies got out, one shoved me in and off I was. A little outside the city, a shuttle stood waiting. When I looked up I saw some big ships descending. Thrawn was setting up his garrison, and I was on the last transport up.

I put my hand in my pocket and gripped the stone in it. No deserting for me, it seemed. And I wondered what the Grand Admiral had gained in getting me down here. I kicked some pebbles away while approaching the shuttle. At the ramp I paused and took a last look at Myrkr. Then I trudged up the ramp and sat down.

For a moment nothing seemed to happen, then I heard more footsteps, the ramp rose and the shuttle began to rise. I wished for a seat at the window, but there was none. And going into the cockpit to look out was most likely frowned upon, or worse. I closed my eyes and tried not to think of all I had told Han, Lando, and Karrde. Maybe, maybe; I just had to hope.

Back aboard the Chimera, I was not immediately ushered into a debriefing with Thrawn that was quite a relief. Instead, I was put into the med bay and got my arm looked at again. It had turned nice shades of blue and purple from all the squeezing, but at least it had stopped bleeding.

"Can I keep a scar?" I asked the doctor.

He gave me a strange look but nodded. I leaned back and let him do his work. I wanted a scar, something to remember. Closing my eyes I tried to burn the moment into my memory. Just a tiny gesture, just a tiny movement and it should be a lesson. One I had such trouble to learn, but one I had to learn nevertheless. This was not a party. This was not a game. And this non-fictional Thrawn could not be bent into a nicer shape by a few words in a vignette.

Finally, I could go back to my quarters. I placed the stone and the twig on my desk. They looked very forlorn there, natural things in an environment that didn't know how to spell that. I sat down on my bunk and just stared. I didn't know what to do next. I didn't want to do anything next. This was too big for me.

But somebody had to do something. And that stupid idiot was me. Punching my computer to life, I began to type some kind of report. I stared at the comm code for the node of the 501st for the longest time, but I could not make myself call. I had nothing to say, no words to call my own.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	41. 041

Forty-one

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!

Move it!!

I awoke with hell of a headache, but to my surprise my arm didn't hurt at all. Maybe it just couldn't hold up with the headache. Moaning, I turned over, but through the pain, I remembered that there was still a debriefing waiting for me. So I clambered out of my bunk, had a sonic and trudged off to my breakfast.

While I hoped for the konot tea to either kill me or chase away the headache, I tried to cobble together something like a report. It was difficult not only because the words seemed to jump around happily, but also because I didn't have much to report.

_Went down, got cut, messed up talking to Karrde, got thrown out of the base, tried to shop, got caught and sent back._ I couldn't really mention Lando and Han, could I? Well, maybe I could remember something useful about Karrde, nothing that would endanger him, if possible. I was ready to drown myself in my tea.

At least, the meeting was scheduled for the morning, then I'd be over with it. And then? It was still a few days until the attack on Sluis Van, maybe I could arrange to have myself dumped somewhere else while that happened. Thrawn was very calm in the books, but with me around and knowing what was to happen, there was no telling how calm he would be then, and how that would affect me.

I was chewing on my lip thoughtfully all my way to the debriefing. Maybe I could have myself shipped to Jomark in package, or use an escape pod in hyperspace, I always wanted to know what happened if you did that. At least, this was an official setting, I thought as I reached my destination. Those visits on the private bridge replication of Thrawn had been big letdowns so far.

I took a deep breath and entered as briskly as I could. The Grand Admiral was already there, checking something on a screen. He didn't seem to notice my entry so I just sat down, opened my pad and waited for him to finish. Which was awkward. I couldn't help staring at him, thoughts racing through my head, and worst of all were those insisting that no matter what, he was still such a good-looking ToS-violation.

Unable to do a proper headdesk, and also with nothing else to look at, my eyes darted from my pad around the walls and back, trying hard to avoid Thrawn, and still getting stuck there ever again. I should move to Csilla and get me my own Chiss, I decided.

Finally, he finished and glanced at me. "You know that usually people wait outside until I call them, Ms Morrison?"

I turned bright red and speechless. It had never occurred to me that sound would carry through those doors, but maybe it was more like a speaker system. This was definitely not one of my better moves. "I, um, sorry, sir," I stuttered. "The door opend just like that, so I thought -"

"And since when are you here to think?" he interrupted me.

"I am sorry, sir," I apologised again, "I just can't help it." I wondered whether to tell him that actually, I liked to think, but then decided not to. I was not a think tank or anything.

He nodded. "Report."

"There is not much to say. After visiting the medic and getting left behind, I predictably messed up and got thrown out. In the process, I managed to garner some information, but not much. Since Karrde gave us a tour of the compound, he will certainly move out now. But I am sure you got to that conclusion already." I paused to take a deep breath.

"Though Myrkr is of no strategic relevance, I suggest retaining the garrison and setting up a small school. Jedi training in such an environment will be very useful for fighting the Vong who cannot be felt or attacked with the Force. I suggest not telling C'baoth about it, working with Skywalker as teacher and I can give you some names to look into. After C'baoth is gone," I added as an afterthought. "He's not stable enough to train anybody."

Thrawn's face had become hard, almost as if chiselled from blue marble. "Karrde is a disciple of Car'das; he took over after the other vanished. With some information you can go a long way with him, I'd say. Or you could even recruit him, too. Other than that, he might be a good choice for an intelligence system operating in the Republic as well as the Empire, neutral informational ground, so to speak."

The icy silence didn't get any better, rather worse, if I was any judge. Well, if it was this bad already, I might just make it the worst I could. "I suggested cooperation to members of the Republic that were accidentally present because we are stronger than them and would otherwise beat them.

"They don't believe it yet, but once the dark fleet is yours and Wayland id working fine, they will surely reconsider. Timing would be important there." I wondered if I had forgotten something important. "I did tell you about Tarkin's private think tank already?"

"No, you didn't." He shook his head. "The skeletons found on Bimmiel prove to be rather interesting, though."

"Oh, those. Good." I had really forgotten about that. "Maybe the maw installation would be a good place to engineer bio-weapons, viruses and such. They should have trouble getting out on their own."

"You have already rearranged my Empire in your head rather neatly, haven't you?" I was not sure he really sounded bemused.

"I like to plan ahead, so I can see everything fall apart before my eyes," I almost snapped. "And I have to aim high, because I'll never get anything if I try modesty." I shook my head. No, I had to ask for everything, hoping that the something I got would suffice to change anything.

"Also, I want Borsk Fey'lya executed." There, I had said it. So what? I was a killer several times already. Might as well hit someone who deserved it.

I could feel his gaze burn right through me. Somehow I was not sure if I wanted to know what he was thinking right then; I wanted to squirm. But somebody had to do something and that somebody was me. If only I had read the NJO more closely, I could better gauge what effect my plan had.

"Any other death notes, Ms Morrison?" His voice was cold as steel and smooth like the blade of a katana. I swallowed hard and tried to think fast. The time was now. "Disra," I said suddenly.

An eyebrow moved upwards and I shrugged apologetically. "He's a scheming bastard and won't hesitate to take over the Empire if he can. Maybe it won't be so bad if you never die, though. Just - keep a close eye on him.

"And once the Vong invade, there's an individual called Vergere. That would be all, I think."

For a long moment he just looked at me, that eyebrow still up. "What about C'baoth's - departure?", he finally asked.

"You don't intend to keep him around forever, do you?" I hope my voice didn't sound as squeaky as it felt. "He's dangerous, unpredictable, a liability. Sooner or later he would get out of control, and there is no end to the damage a dark Jedi can inflict. And he would turn any Jedi student you give him into an obedient extension of himself, a small army of C'baoths. Please, tell me that you don't plan to keep him."

He didn't answer to that. "I expected more leverage against Karrde," he said instead.

"Sorry, but if you can wait another ten years, there might be a woman in his life," I replied. "He's dedicated to his people and takes his responsibility serious, he's also buyable to a certain degree, the more he believes in the cause the cheaper the prices. Still, as long as there are two sides fighting each other, he won't be likely to chose one."

"Dismissed," Thrawn said with half a nod.

I could not make out if I had done okay or if he was regretting my latest adventure already. So I did the wise thing, saluted and left. Now that he had all that information, I would need to get my lazy ass up. Unlike me, he would take action as soon as he could, and my means were just limited.

Due to my hurt arm, I got to fight with my left hand only. It was an awkward kind of fun. I kept hitting everything but Arn's training saber.

"Concentrate," he chided hitting my right shoulder again. "Where are your thoughts, Mellanna?"

I batted helplessly against his stick. "Everywhere," I said finally. "I am worrying about changing the future."

"It's a bit too late for that, isn't it?" He smiled. "Better concentrate on making it the best you can."

I lowered my stick, and Arn brought his to a stop just before he got me a bad bruise on the neck. He tapped my with the tip a few times. "Don't do that, it could be really dangerous with lightsabers."

"I don't know what to do!" I shrugged. "I just have no idea how to form a future that has all I think necessary without having it clash violently with the Grand Admiral's ideas." I waved the stick around. "Why should his idea of the future be the one implemented?"

"Because," Arn grabbed my saber and held it fast, "he is the Grand Admiral, Leader of the Empire and very, very good at his job."

I stared him right back into the eye, feeling my anger. Then I let go of my stick and waved my arms instead. "That's just the problem, Arn! He's _Empire_ and at least half of the galaxy doesn't care about the Empire the least. They need time to associate that word with stability, peace, and justice instead of suppression, terror, and arbitrariness.

"Thrawn is of course the better alternative, but we cannot force people to accept that. Otherwise the fighting will never stop."

He looked at me calculating. "And you know all the answers, right?"

"Me?" I snorted. "I have no answers. All I have is ideas, things that might work if both sides would just try. What I need is people listening to those ideas, people with similar ideas or even better ones. But all of you are so caught in this conflict, that you see no neutral ground. Karrde, would be of help, if we could put up a joined Jedi order for all Force Sensitives, disregarding their background, that could work, too."

"You are speaking of high treason," Arn's voice was low, "you know that."

"Do I care?" I took a deep breath. "If peace be high treason, you can convict me any day, Ensign." I left him standing there, my head swimming with impotent anger. I knew what I wanted, and went straight to get it.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	42. 042

Forty-two

It had taken all my courage and a fair amount of stuttering and blushing but in the end, I got my date. Okay, appointment, whatever. Of course, Dave had his time off just when I was supposed to do some sleeping, but I was too cranky to sleep anyway. Everything was slipping and I felt like I was loosing it completely. Thrawn didn't help the least in such a state, he only made things worse. Come to think of it, I couldn't think of any situation where that wouldn't be true. Imperial's luck.

As I approached the door, I braced myself. This might be - difficult. Darn, the door had hissed open to reveal Dave completely out of armour, in a stormies free time outfit. They shouldn't put men like him into tight black jumpsuits. That was too distracting.

"Hi," I managed to say and sit down without stumbling over my own jaw. He didn't offer his hand, but that might have been just as well. I might have been reluctant to let go off it again and a one-armed stormtrooper is not very effective.

"I didn't think I'd see you again."

"Uh." I wasn't sure what to say. It also hurt that he said it as if it was of no importance either way. Trying hard not feel hurt, I shuffled words around in my head, none of which sounded any right.

"Some of the men even made bets on it." It was as if he read me some stats. "Most said you didn't have the balls to call."

I inhaled deeply and remembered why I had come. "I don't have balls," I snapped. "But you can tell _some men_ I offer a free kick to make theirs come out of their ears."

"Pretty violent for a pacifist," he stated, his tone maybe a hint inquisitive.

"I get angry like everybody else," I told him. "I just don't know how to vent properly. Unlike you I don't get a chance to shoot things to rubble every other day."

"It's not that easy."

"Oh, you tell me. Of course it's easy; you just follow an ideology without wondering. Bang, bang, you're dead. Doesn't sound complicated to me."

The way his eyes almost didn't change at all told me all I needed to know. "Oh, it was a clever move of Thrawn to play into my weakness for clones," I went on, "he knows I'm easy to manipulate. And voila, here I am." I indicated the room.

"Maybe you don't care to be used like that, maybe I don't care either. But I do. And I am so tired of these charades." I pointed at him. "I don't even know if you're really Dave or not." Uh-oh, there was something dangerous sparkling in his eyes, darn pretty, but certainly violent. Obviously he didn't like being called Dave.

"I mean, you could be any other clone, how would I know? Can I use the Force to keep you apart? No, I can't. I can't do anything. So what? Maybe I can just pretend you're all Dave, all the same, one clone, doesn't matter. Would anybody care?"

He certainly would. By now Dave gave off definite signs of annoyance. It was amazing he could still keep his mouth shut. Those men were taught control, all right.

"I don't know why I even bother." I shook my head. "None of this achieved anything. Nothing you do has any impact. Oh, you're the shiny boys in white, and all that, but how's that supposed to impress me? I'm a heads person, you're all muscle."

I got up and turned to leave, but then I turned around once more. He was already standing. I approached until there was just a hand span of space between us. "You know, the idea was sound, but the execution," I measured him up and down, "sucks."

Then I went to the door laughing under my breath. "I can't believe I fell for this."

"One last comment," Dave's voice didn't show any signs of agitation. I might have miscalculated.

I turned again, cocked my head slightly and smiled. "Whenever you're ready - Dave."

It wasn't a fast movement, it didn't even feel fast until I came to a stop with my back and head bouncing of the bulkhead.

"Yeah, _vod'ika_, and what now?" I sniggered. "Harm the Grand Admirals personal pet, or what?" There was no answer. Instead there was a sudden burst of pain in the left side of my face.

"Do you think, he would mind?" I rather liked the stars dancing around his face, though his voice did sound kinda muffled. He was so close, I could think of any number of things I wanted to rather than this, and I would have bitten my lip to stop my self from doing any, if only my teeth hadn't hurt so bad.

I sniggered again. "Will ask him next time, I think I do remember your number. Provided you didn't lie about it."

He did have a thing about lying, I'd say. Accusing him of that was a very stupid idea, obviously, but I couldn't stop snickering to myself. Then the world winked out for a moment and when I came back from black, the only reason I was still upright was, that Dave still pinned my left shoulder to the wall firmly with his right. I tasted blood. Fine.

He let go off me with a growl that might have contained words. I kept my back to the wall, not really trusting my legs, and tried to chase the funny lights from my sight. After blinking a few times and making sure my teeth were still all there, I turned to Dave.

"Thanks," I hugged him. Then I flopped down on my chair.

"You _are_ crazy," he simply said as if nothing had happened.

"I'm not, " I countered. "I'm just completely overtaxed with everything. I don't know how to cope."

"Excuses," he said, still calm. "If you couldn't cope, you'd be dead already. You're not, so suck it up."

It hurt. I stared at my hands. I must have had my mouth open, because I could see blood on the slab. I took a rattling breath, then another. Pain, it was a good focus, made you aware. I was right here, right now with Dave. "I envy you because I'm all alone here and you are not," I said suddenly, watching my vision blur.

"You must envy everybody on this ship then," he just said.

"I do." I didn't care that I was probably crying when I raised my head to look into those amazing dark eyes. "I do."

He got up and wiped the blood from the table, shaking his head; probably wondering what he got himself into and how to get rid of me again. I closed my eyes. And had them snap back open immediately, when something painful happened to my chin.

It was Dave, trying to wipe of the blood, darn, I must have been drooling. Not that I cared much right then, with tears of pain rushing out of my eyes. A firm grip is nice, but not around your jaw, when you feel like your teeth might drop out if you looked at them wrong.

"What did you do to amend that?" He asked.

Oh, my. Was I really just trying to learn being social from a clone? I mean - I had to giggle. Not such a good idea with my chin still painfully gripped, but as suggested I would amend that. I took the cloth from his hand and tried to close my mouth without losing my teeth. Then I held the cloth before my mouth and nose, because giggling with your mouth shut was awfully close to snorting.

"Mad," he just commented.

I shook my head. "Meta-text which is unfortunately, not so meta any more with me being reduced to text. Or something. I'm sorry, my old jokes are not funny here anymore."

"Don't worry, you new ones are not faring any better. You should stick to threatening us to kick our shins."

That gave me a stop. "Well," I finally said, "I'm just happy you didn't get stationed down there."

Again no discernable reaction. I decided that Dave's facial expressions were just to subtle for me to see; nobody could act like such a stone. As if he didn't even see those angry red spots all over my face, as if it didn't matter the least. Maybe it didn't; maybe it never had. A smile spread over my face.

"I don't care if you don't care if I care. I care."

That one at least got a raised brow. "You don't expect me to make sense of you when you can't do that yourself, are you?"

"Um." Good question actually. Was I? Not that he looked any shade of helpful in that regard. What was I doing and why. Um. "Would it work if I did?"

"No." he shook his head, and darn, did I mention that he looked great. He did. I sighed.

"So I feel all alone here, though I have kinda contacts. But Arn doesn't really count because he's mostly paid to be nice to me and everything's a set up anyway. It makes me feel angry and helpless and I have nobody to blame. And I also have nobody to hurt. I'm not much one for hurting other people, but since I'm here, I just can't deny the urge to go and just thrash up somebody, something, anything. I can't so, I take the other side of the exercise."

Dave looked at me in a way that felt expectant. No signs in his face I could read. So what was the question? Oh, that one again. "I need a place to vent and I have no idea where to find one." I braced myself because I just knew it would feel silly. "Can you help me? Please?"

Shaking his head he got up. "Wherever you come from, the place sucks." Taking my arm he dragged me off.

It looked almost like they gym Arn and I practiced in, only, bigger, and it seemed more cold, stark, maybe deadly. Since my usual jumpsuit was not available I wore on that was too big, definitely newly laundered and completely devoid of any name tags. The long legs had been stuff into my boots so I wouldn't trip over them and a patch had been applied to my lip.

He hadn't even bothered to change, just stood there in his black jumpsuit and looked at me. "Hurt me."

Oh yeah. And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	43. 043

**- 3 -**

Forty-three

.

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!!_

_.  
_

I rolled over the side of the bunk and dropped on the floor. It gave a satisfactory thump, but didn't hurt much. I was counting on the cold to get me up anyway. Darn, I was so tired. And I hurt all over.

_Hurt me_, he had said, and I had done my best. Dave was the fastest, strongest, and meanest ToS-violation I had ever come across. I tried the mean tricks on him everybody knew, those not everybody knew, things I only heard of in films; it made no difference. He was always faster, blocked me before I even knew what I was about to do, I got nowhere but exhausted.

And that was just the beginning. After he had been sure I was all warmed up, he fought back, only a little, very carefully, I'd say, but man, that guy was born to inflict pain.

I giggled into the ground. Yes, it had hurt, still did, but, I counted my teeth with my tongue, everything was still there, if a bit loose. And yes, my body hurt all over, but my head felt funnily free. As if something had gone boom, broken a dam and poured all that debris out.

Something had indeed gone boom; I had. I laughed softly, listening to the sound of it echoing in the floor. I had gone berserk, tried his own tricks on him and still effected nothing. I couldn't remember landing one good blow. Unlike him. And, as he had said, all completely without leaving marks. That needed verification.

I jumped up, which was not a very good idea. But I gritted my teeth ignored the pain and went to have a sonic. What can I say? Not a single bruise, Dave was a man of his word.

Breakfast was a healthy-looking and actually tasty gruel with my fave tea, and for once I arrived at the gym before Arn. I took up the sticks and began to warm up humming to myself. The movement felt good, like a huge pain that had just receded to a soft throbbing. I was aware of my muscles and body in an amazing way.

"_Best of the best? _Mellanna, you are still rooting for the wrong faction," a voice chided from behind me. Of course, it was Arn.

"Just a drinking song," I answered smiling. "I'm even sure I don't have it right."

"Do you think that matters?"

"I do." I brought my sticks up in a defensive stance. "If I really wanted to get into that faction, I better get everything right, or I will just end up dead quickly."

"I think I can help you there." He attacked in a practised pattern.

My muscles tried to protest feebly, when I flung myself into the exercise, but I just ignored the, I could feel them and that was alright. For a while it worked fine, but I began to feel the lack of sleep and exertion of the night before soon enough. Still, I clenched my teeth and just went on. It couldn't last forever.

And it didn't. I could almost feel Arn raising a brow inwardly as I didn't complain once, though I was obviously not happy with the program. Finally he lowered his sticks. "The 501st rubbing off on you?", he inquired.

Massaging my shoulders I shrugged. Might be, might not be. Also, I didn't dare to put the words 'rub' and 'Dave' into one sentence. News seemed to travel really fast aboard this ship. "It's different," I said, not sure what to say at all.

Arn gave me a strange look, but my mind was already considering lunch and a lot of caf and tea to keep me awake though the day. I didn't think I would get stims. Though, I might just try anyway.

Arn was rather quite during lunch. He eyed the amount of caf and konot tea I swallowed suspiciously, but didn't comment on it. Somehow I got the feeling he was mulling over something. But I was unsure how to breach the subject, provided I could even make my mind up whether to breach it at all. Defiantly I poked my desserts. Social skills, oh my.

"I know," I finally began, "that the 501st are the elite and shouldn't waste their time playing with me. I won't do it again, if that's it."

Arn cocked his head slightly as if he tried to make sense of what I had said. My people skills had probably proved themselves to be non-existent again. He shook his head slightly.

To distract myself, I glanced at my pad which threatened me with lessons by Seros before I would get some time to work on the tasks from C'baoth. Great, I glanced back at Arn, wondering whether to try again. It couldn't get much worse, could it?

But before I could put my foot into anything, my pad beeped urgently and I had to leave. I looked uncertainly at Arn, but he didn't seem any more sure of what to say. Deadlock, how nice.

"Well," I mumbled turning away but suddenly he took my arm.

"I just want you to know that's it's not just because of the job," he said.

Um. I stared at him for a moment before I could make sense of that. Then I lowered my head embarrassed and nodded, a smile forcing it's way to my face. "Okay," I said softly, unable to look at him. "It's just, I mean -"

"I know," he sighed. "Anyway."

I nodded again looking at him. "Yes, anyway. That's just the problem, isn't it?" I hugged him briefly before almost running to meet Seros. Arn was nice and all that, and he could hardly be if he didn't like me somewhat, but his position in this scheme just undermined his credibility by default. It was not his fault. I was sorry for him, depending on my mood, I believed whatever. But I would trust him on that one. I mean, the answer to it was definitely maybe.

The lessons were kindly enough so complicated that I couldn't think about that problem anymore. Seros took his duty very seriously and introduced me to current Imperial politics. I had believed that Thrawn was the head-honcho of the hour, but obviously that was true only where the military was concerned. The Moffs of the core worlds and other regions still were busy doing their own thing.

It was a very complicated web of intrigue, kinship, allegiance, and backstabbing. Thinking of it made my head hurt. It did help to understand where Thrawn had honed his mind-boggling skills, though. I was glad that I had ended up in the military suddenly and not at the court of an old Imperial family. But I got into the workings of it well enough. As long as you always assumed the worst to happen, you were right.

Imperial thinking definitely turned your brains into goo. And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	44. 044

Forty-four

I fell into some kind of routine fort he next few days. After getting up I was directly rerouted to Seros who took sadistic pleasure in torturing me with Imperial politics. I am sure it is all Palps fault for being such a thinker that everything was so highly complicated now. The only thing that was clear was that you couldn't just assassinate a Moff; you had to be very subtle.

Actually, you couldn't kill a Moff at all. First you had to replace him by somebody else. Then you could get rid off him. It looked as if it was my job to topple one of them Moffs. At least, plan and pretend to do it. I was not sure how much of my ideas would ever reach the Grand Admirals ears. I just hope they didn't make them bleed.

Well, since this was obviously a long term engagement, I decided to be nice to Seros, listen to his suggestions and do something completely different anyway. Unlike him, I didn't want another blockheaded Palpy-loyal butthead in the Moffs position. Of course, I didn't say it like that. Instead I pointed out the new direction things were taking under Thrawn and that somebody with a strong dislike of aliens was probably not a good candidate.

Some research brought up Deerian as still alive. Since I knew nothing about anybody else, either, I decided to grab him and see what would happen. I sketched up the web around Dirsa like a game board and then tried to play multidimensional chess with myself. Unfortunately, I lost.

Seros took a day of research and then agreed to my choice of New Moff. Probably having seen that sudden transfer before Moff Glovstoak was taken down, maybe even seeing the Emperor's hand in that. Not meaning Mara this time. Step one was introducing the poor man inconspicuously into Disra's vicinity. But since he had experience with planetary defences that would not be too difficult. Good thing was, that I only needed to write my ideas down, like some elaborate RPG.

After the frustrations with Seros, I got to vent with Arn. Still on the lightsaber improvement trip, it was far from perfect, but slowly even I felt my technique improving. It would never be enough to impress C'baoth with, but it was more than I could ever had hoped to achieve on my own. The humming of the energy-blade became a well-known sound. I was only a little afraid to kill myself with it. Still, it was not really an extension of my arm. Somehow I hoped it would never be.

After lunch, Arn dropped me in the care of Sergeant Toris, who shouted a lot at me and made sure I didn't blow up things that were more expensive than me. That was about everything around me once I had entered the hangar. Still, for some opaque reasons I had to learn how to handle a ship on my own. Whenever I took up a tool, I felt my stomach cramp. Why would I ever need this? I didn't want to need this.

Not that anybody cared. And once you got all that new technobabble it was easy. Too bad I never really got a word. Toris was rather hoarse when I left and he didn't look happy. I was tempted to tell him it wasn't his fault. I was just too scared of why I should need this to pay real attention. At least, I could reroute the power manually between the systems now. Go, me. I was sure that this would be SO handy one day.

After that I had time for dinner and doing my chores for C'baoth. Dutifully I reported how Thrawn was apparently about to accumulate a huge fleet, disregarding the problem of manning it. It was not my fault if I couldn't imagine the Grand Admiral producing clones to crew the ships. After all, growing classy clones took time.

Classy clones.

Grabbing my pad, I sat cross-legged in the gym of the 501st. Typing away madly while being ignored by good-looking men was nothing new to me. And I had something to watch at least. Except for Dave, none seemed to have any interest in me. Okay, honestly, I am not even sure they took much notice. I couldn't say the same for me. As good as I could, I hid behind my pad, but watching them was just a lot more interesting that summarising recent developments for C'baoth and hiding that in a report on the history of the Sluis Van shipyards.

Darn, the shipyards. I had almost forgotten about those. But the attack could be every day; could even be over already. I hoped it was. It would be nice to miss a space battle like that. Though - it did have Luke in it. I couldn't talk to Luke. I lacked the Force abilities necessary for that.

I stared at the exercising clones. No Luke for me. And also, no Wedge, maybe learning about fighters would be more fun with him? Not that I would ever find out. On my second day sitting crouched in the gym and hacking at my pad, I slowly became able to tell some of the men apart. Not the easy cases with scars in their faces, some of the others. Each moved in a slightly different, but distinct way. It was still amazing to think that Skirata could tell them all apart.

Too bad that deserters were not really a topic that would go down well with the 501st. I missed the companionship described in the RC books, but then again, I was not a clone. _And what have I done to amend that? _Damn Dave. It was even worse, because he was right. Grabbing my pad I decided to call it a night.

In my room I couldn't get together the lyrics for Snow. Bits of it whirled through my head, but somehow they didn't come together quite right when I typed them down. It was very frustrating. _Another devil cries of being just a lightless hole._ At least that part I cold spare myself. For once I curled up in me bed early.

.

.

_I am back home, not my home but the old flat of my parents. It looks empty, and suddenly I see my boyfriend. He's carrying boxes out of the flat looking sad. I try to stop him and ask him what he's doing, he can't move out of our flat like that, but he doesn't react. Dave appears, patting his shoulder compassionately. Then he takes boxes, too and carries them away._

_I run after him, and in the stairway C'baoth stands shaking his head at me. He doesn't look like Christopher Walken any more._

_"That is kind of you," the aforementioned says. He smiles at me and leaves through a patch of leafless trees. It is cold, I am wearing a white dress and run through the trees, there is nobody there. I am all alone and the snow crunches under my feet. A tree-root reaches out and topples me. A sleeve rips and I am almost suffocated by the wet leaves under my face._

_"Mando-wannabe," Walken says perching in a tree. He moves to burn me with a gesture, but there is too much snow. So much snow. I begin to swim, but it becomes more, threatening to drown me. I flail and it turns into ice, closing in around me. My boyfriend puts a yellow rose in my hand just before the ice covers it._

_I stand frozen and watch battles, all kinds of battles fought all over the galaxy. They all die, it's inevitable. I cannot close my eyes. It's too cold. The thorns pierce my fingers, and another battles starts. And another, and another. There is no escape. They will all die. So will I. But first I must watch. It will never end. It's inevitable. This is forever._

_... and the reason I didn't update._


	45. 045

Forty-Five

I woke up shivering. My blanket had fallen to the floor, but even rolling up tightly under it didn't help any. The cold wouldn't stop. After lying for a shivering eternity, I decided to get up and try hot water instead. Also, I decided to close my eyes only shortly, blaster bolts kept blazing across my closed lids, and people died. Shiny boys in white, men and women in all kinds of uniforms, even orange flight suits, which should not be used for ground troops, and Mandos of all colour. Of course Mandos, I knew more about them than any war-addicted species. Actually, that they were mostly humans probably made them a war-addicted species.

I turned on the shower completely and huddled under the hot waterfall. The splattering patterns on my head were not nearly as comforting as I had thought, not with the pseudo-noise of canons and deecees and blasters and slug throwers and plexes and - whatever in my ears. I covered them with my hands, but it didn't help.

At least, I got warm a again, a bit. So I managed to dress without having my hands shake so badly. Maybe something hot to drink will help and it was only four in the morning. This day would suck. Well, I knew a place where I could go anytime, even if I might as well not be there.

The gym was empty. I stared for a long moment before I remembered to walk through the door. The silence was almost scary and I began to feel cold again. I stood hugging myself next to the door when a member of the 501st came in. He just went and grabbed something before turning to leave again.

What -", I began.

"Battle," he informed me, without breaking his stride.

"Sluis Van," I breathed, still staring. He nodded. Sluis Van that meant like what? Over fifty mole miners manned with at least three people each plus fighters getting mowed down by Rogue Squadron. "Oh no."

I curled my hands up in fists, stabbing my palms with my nails. This was so not good. My first impulse was to sag and huddle up on the floor, but no. What had I done to amend that?

Darn. At least, the punching ball didn't fight back. I was most likely the least effective opponent it had ever seen, but did I care? Not. One. Bit. Besides it felt good to vent my aggressions for a change. Yeah, fate, take this!

The thing was that somehow it didn't get much better. I got tired, exhausted, but still emotionally rather volatile. Maybe the aim of the exercise was just to get so tired you didn't explode on some innocent bystander. In a war. Make me laugh.

At least, I didn't cry.

A hand descended on my shoulder. "Enough."

I turned. I was not Dave, but I was sure I had seen him before. "Sorry," I mumbled. "I shouldn't keep you from training. Sorry."

"That's not it." He lifted my right hand and I saw that the skin on my knuckles was beginning to wear thin, blood seeping through at places.

"Sorry," I repeated myself. "I just seem to bleed over everything. Maybe they should send me to the front and I'll just drown everybody in my blood."

"I'm afraid the enemy can swim," he replied dryly.

"Oh, Skywalker's from a desert planet. Maybe he'll be so shocked that he forgets he learnt how to swim." I took the bacta spray he gave me and applied it to my hands.

"Unlikely." He looked at my work critically, but didn't say a word. He had seen worse.

"Wait 'til you see me do pneumotomy," I softly said to myself.

"I'd rather not."

Dammed they did have good ears. I grinned sheepishly. I wondered how he felt, knowing his brothers and friends in a battle and maybe never returning. Okay, most of them never returning. How would he deal with their loss and what did that mean to me, anyway.

"Can you tell me -"

"DV-565," he replied.

"Ah, no, that was not the question this time, but thanks." I chuckled. Seemed I was known all over the place. "I wanted to ask why it always hits the soldiers worse and why I care."

He raised a brow. "Because we're there to fight, and I have no idea."

Nothing could shake their cool. I laughed handing back the bacta. "Thank you DV-565." A glance at my pad revealed that Seros would go livid in a few minutes if I didn't show up. Imperial's luck. I turned to leave, but looked back at the clone again.

"If there is something I can do, like ever, you know?" I shrugged helplessly and fled from my own boldness. The difficult and possibly embarrassing thing now would be meeting him again. I could only hope to recognize him.

Seros did not have to shout at me after all. I was just on time, if rather out of breath. He regarded my hands for a moment and then poured Imperial indignation over me. Probably for being just in time and not giving my superior a chance to shout. Whatever.

Apparently my plan to make Deerjan the next Moff in Disra's position was okay. Not that I had any further ideas what to do now. Good thing Seros had been told just what to do. The next step was to fake a report for Disra, mentioning the dismal state of some of his security systems and suggesting he get some expert's help with that.

Did I ever mention me having classes in planetary defences? No? Probably because I didn't get any. Guess what I was busy with for the next hours. After I knew the average of planetary defences, I was allowed to practice with Arn and grab something to eat.

I kept ranting about politics and defences and how people generally expected me to know everything.

"The only way to sensibly make sure you'll remember at least something," Arn said, shaking his head. "You have to catch up on a complete Imperial career as well as thirty years of life in this place. What did you expect?"

"More brains," I replied. "No really, why not just implant something with the most fundamental knowledge in my head. That way, I'd never have to worry again if something's a hydrospanner or a toe nail clipper for Wookiees."

"Since there are no Wookies in the Empire, it's most likely a hydrospanner."

"Klugscheißer." It was amazing how the battle for Sluis Van didn't come up once. Maybe Thrawn was angry, or maybe not. Sooner or later I might just find out. I was sure Pelly was beyond mad at me.

I spent some more time with Seros until my 'free' time began. Somehow I didn't dare show up in the gym of the 501st again. Instead I curled up in my quarter hoping I would sleep better than last night.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	46. 046

Forty-Six

I worried for the next few days about meeting the Grand Admiral and finding out how he took losing at Sluis Van, but I didn't get to see him. Maybe that was even more worrying than meeting him in person. Instead I was wheeled through my schedule day after day. I began to get a routine with the saber, I didn't get all red in the face after five minutes of training, and one morning, I got up wondering how much like my old self I still looked.

It felt as if there was less of me now, and I was not sure I approved. A quick check did fortunately turn up the complete lack of abs and no sign of my ribs anywhere. Phew. Maybe I should expand a bit on the dessert sector just to be sure, the blue shirt I had brought with me did seem a bit loose...

Arn saw only the positive side, namely that I was now good enough with my basics to chose a form. Huh? PT stuff, no doubt, I always thought you used a lightsaber in a way that was effective. Now I had to use a form. Slash'n'Stab, unfortunately, didn't count. Knowing nothing about this humbug I obviously chose the most defensive one. That left me with form number three and a whole midday in which lightsaber practice was substituted by reading up on that. Wahey.

Seems form three was the most defensive form of all. Kudos to Arn for knowing that, I am sure teaching lightsaber combat to stupid half-sentients was not a course at Imperial Academy. My form had the pretty name 'Soresu' or 'Way of the Mynock'. That probably meant I would change into an energy sucking bird once I mastered the form.

I was sure it was also the most complicated form for lightsaber combat ever created. If I had a say in this matter, Slah'n'Stab would be the one and only form around. Anyway, by the way Arn was already able to teach me some of the Mynocky moves, I bet somebody saw that choice of mine coming.

I rather did feel like a Mynock, too. Fluttering around rather planlessly and I could probably make chirping noises on demand , too. I felt ready to stick some high voltage cable into my head, too. I was also worried about C'baoth's opinion of my form; provided he recognised it, that was.

Come to think of it, I had never read about him using a saber, though. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. My Master had even taken the risk of calling me personally. I am sure Thrawn had that chat taped somewhere. Not that it mattered much. I had managed to convey surprise at the idea that the Grand Admiral might want to start cloning personnel for the fleet he busily acquired.

"But that would take years," I objected. "Even if he starts now, it would take a lot of time until they were ready. Even if they're only flash-trained."

C'baoth stroked his beard thoughtfully. "That might be true, but he is planning something. Maybe he has found a way to produce quality clones in shorter time."

"Maybe," it was probably a bad idea, but what was new? "Maybe he had already planned something when the Empire broke down, and the clones would be ready now? Would that be long enough to produce an army?"

Yeah, of course it was, even if you went Kaminoan, but that was for the Great Jedi Master to realise on his own. I am just the stupid padawan. See the emptiness in my eyes. He took the bait.

"There is no knowing how long he plans anything," C'baoth said. Now that was alleging revolution, if I read him right. Not that I would have blamed anybody for planning to overthrow Palpatine.

"No, there is not," I confirmed. "I will be watchful."

C'baoth nodded and cut the connection. Good plan, because Luke would not be happy if he found out that his Jedi from the olden days had regular communications with then new Empire.

In the gym of the 501st, Dave did turn up again. Since he was busy, I didn't glomp him to death there and then, but it was a close cut. Instead I probably made a big fool out of myself by crossing myself mumbling '_su cuy'gar'_. Those two don't really belong together, but it worked well enough. Not that anybody would get my gesture, considering how it meant nothing here.

The ferocity with which I went at him once he could spare some minutes, must have told him everything, though. He almost beat me senseless by accident, and my shoulders hurt for days. It was fun, though. A few more months and I wouldn't want to meet myself in a dark alley.

Fi, actually 565, but numbers are not names as far as I am concerned, anyway Fi had begun to greet me, and I was not sure what that meant. Probably just recognising my existence. That was good enough for me. I smiled back and tried to duck Dave's blow while doing so. Not succeeding any, but the upside was that by now I handled bacta like I grew up with it and even could apply patches. Given time, I might just get to do my pneumotomy.

I stumbled back to my room happy after those training sessions. It was sad that those were the only times I got some kind of close contact with anybody. Lying on my bunk hurting, I missed my bf. Even if he'd snored all night, I would have been more than glad to have him back. That was one of the drawbacks of routine: you got time to think.

I was here about a month and maybe a week or two. That made it middle of March at home. My flat was probably being emptied right now and my poor Degus were being taken to a new home. I wondered where my stuff would all end up. Would my best friend come and grab all the books as promised? Would my SW collection be distributed among those wanting it, or would my parents want to keep everything for just a while longer hoping -

Those thoughts were depressing and it was almost a relief to have Toris shout at me for being an incompetent blob with no hope to ever grasp the fine arts of engineering. It gave me something else to think about. Pounding the broken bit in question with the nearest tool was not what I was supposed to be doing. Even if I felt to be the nearest broken thing around.

My free day started off nice. My waking call didn't wake me until half past nine. Then I still had loads of time for a shower and big breakfast before I was expected at the sims. Jes and Sey were a good counterweight to Torsi continued shouting, but somehow I didn't feel much better for it. So of course I took the chance to get wasted in the evening. Given determination that was easy to achieve.

I just hoped things would become more exciting soon, or I would have too much time to remember home and be depressed. Putting my pillow over my head I hoped the next week would be better. Or I would have to amend things somehow. Not an idea I liked.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	47. 047

Forty-Seven

Another three days went by before anything interesting deigned to happen though. I was shouted out of bed, had lessons, tried not to kill myself while being a Mynock with a lightsaber, tried to warp my mind enough to understand Imperial politics, did homework for C'baoth, sparred some more or just watched, depending on the presence of Dave.

Between those activities I tried to ignore the fact that I was gone from home for too long that I missed it like hell and wondered how long I could work myself how hard to forget before I broke down. _If you don't break sometimes, how can you know how far you can go?_ a wise man had once said. I didn't know, and by now, I was afraid to find out.

"Deerian has just been contacted by Moff Disra," Seros greeted me on the fourth day. "It seems as if he will take the offered position after he finished his current commission in the service of Kuat of Kuat."

He seemed genuinely pleased, so I didn't ask when that would be and if it would help any if I got out and pushed. Considering how delicately the whole plan was balanced, I would probably just topple it.

"That's good news, right?" I said instead. "Will we have to contact him before or after he gets there, or not at all?"

"For the time being, not at all," Seros replied. "Once he has established himself in the vicinity of the Moff there can be restricted contact, completely on official business, of course."

I nodded with a sigh. That meant the rest of this would be but a thought experiment for me. Even if Deerian relocated in a few month, he would be far from established when this campaign was over. How much time did the TTT span anyway? I should have paid more attention to that.

Paying more attention might have been good anyway. Since I didn't, I ended up at my old study rooms and was rather surprised to fin C'baoth there, too. Nobody had told me he was back. But for whatever reasons he was and he measured me up and down as if looking for physical signs that I had finally connected with the Force. Connecting with the forces aboard probably didn't count so I decided not to bring that up from myself.

"Good day, Master C'baoth," I greeted him with a bow. "What an unexpected meeting."

"I will be conducting a battle soon, but before that, I insisted on seeing you." He smiled and obviously expected me to be pleased. I tried hard to appreciate the fact that I was somewhat important to him.

"Will you have to leave to lead the battle?" I asked.

He nodded gravely. "The Grand Admiral does not give me much time to spare, but he has to. Your progress on the political sector is slow."

"I have difficulties understanding the workings, Master," I cast my eyes down. "It's not for lack of efforts from Seros. It just takes me long to understand."

"At least in your education the Grand Admiral does not meddle with my wishes," C'baoth sounded pleased. "Ruling the galaxy will not be easy, Padawan. By now, we are only two, and even if Tharwn does manage to deliver my Jedi to me still, there will be only three of us in the end."

"I will do my best, Master," I promised, trying to ignore the number of Jedi her counted on. "The Imperial politic seems to be pervaded by corruption and intrigue. I do not want to get myself killed by doing something wrong to start with."

"Yes, yes, we will need to do something about that." He stroked his beard. "What have you found out about the new recruits the Grand Admiral is looking for?"

"He is also looking for ships. I think he plans to have a complete new fleet and/or army within the next months. But in the system there is no trace of new recruits or conscripts." Taking a deep breath I decided to bring up a difficult subject. "I wonder if he found something on Wayland that has enabled him to produce clones in short time. With flash training and enough numbers he can simply overrun the Republic then, disregarding the abilities of the new troops."

"There was no such thing in Mount Tantiss," C'baoth disagreed. "I know, because I have been there. No, he must have found that somewhere else. The later clones in the Clone Wars have been fast grown, too.

"I think there are some left in the troops yet," I said cautiously.

The dark Jedi nodded. "They might remember. You will look into this."

"I will do that," I confirmed. "There should be a way to get into contact with remaining clones. I will find it and ask questions. Inconspicuously."

"I will leave instructions for you," he glanced at the chrono. "Now I must leave. Next time, I will check on your progress with the lightsaber. You did exercise as told?"

"Yes, Master, I did." Hell had I practiced, it was amazing I didn't sport wings as yet identifying me as a Mynock. "I am looking forward to it. How long will you be gone?"

He placed a hand on my shoulder and walked me off. "I do not know. I will most likely not be able to tell you in advance."

"It's the Grand Admiral with his shifting plans, I understand."

"Beware of him," C'baoth insisted. "He is dangerous."

"Yes, Master." And then he was gone as swift as he had appeared. Cold sweat started to form on my forehead. I needed a break, and something sweet. Thee nearest cantina was not far away, but I had just sat down and taken a appreciative look of my cake, when Arn appeared. Disregarding my current employment, he dragged me off to my next appointment.

With sagging shoulders I found myself at the Grand Admiral's door again. This day would just suck. Maybe I could just do something stupid in the antechamber and have myself killed by Rhukh.

Instead, I found myself standing to attention in front of Thrawn.

"You wondered why I did not call you after the failure at Sluis Van." It was not a question.

"Yes, Sir." And it did worry me that he should bring this up now. I prayed nothing really wrong had happened and the future set galaxy more askew than I could ever hope to amend somewhat.

"It brought some rather interesting validations, for one, that Skywalkwer was indeed on Myrkr at the time of our visit." He smiled coldly. "Not on the base, of course. And the loyalties of Karrde are questionable by now."

"Solo was there, too," I added. "Him and Calrissian. They are the people I talked to, telling them how nasty their future might just happen to be. I am not sure how much that will influence them, though."

He regarded me thoughtfully. "What result do you wish for?"

"That they believe me when I am scared of the Vong. That they agree on peace and cooperation will happen. That the Vong will not take apart everything I know." And love. I didn't add that loud, though. "I would have had better chances with Skywalker, being a Jedi he could have sensed the truth behind my words. But then, I am not sure what I would do if I met him."

"You might find out sooner than you like," his voice betrayed no emotion. "Master C'baoth keeps demanding you travel with him instead of wasting your time here."

As the world falls down... Blackmailing if I had ever seen any. "As long as you do not have the Katana Fleet, I see no problem there. My grasp of the length of this campaign in sketchy but a few weeks should not matter much." There I had given myself into slavery. Happy?

"Assent noted," he replied. "Furthermore Kir Kanos has been found. His personal vendetta and attitude make his compliance doubtful, though."

I sighed. "I expected something like that. Maybe there is a way to instrumentalise him anyway? He could get rid of some convenient people."

"Possible."

"Has any crew member started to act a bit weird since C'baoth is gone?"

He raised a brow. "Apart from you, no."

What a help. At least it seemed that C'baoth was doing this very subtly and there was hope for the crew member in question.

"You might also consider where to be after this campaign," Thrawn said suddenly. "In the military, you are most out of place. Dismissed."

I saluted and left. Darn, that had just been my dishonourable discharge from the Empire. In the antechamber I stopped to calm down. But I had to admit, he was right. In the military I was completely useless. I just needed to find an interesting civilian occupation I could practice. Go me!

It's not that I didn't try to find one. I did. I really, really did. And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	48. 048

Forty-Eight

Arn could not believe it, when I told him about my discharge from the military. His surprise was touching and his confusion rather cute. Maybe he still didn't want to believe that his boss was a huge ToS violation.

"At least, being his personal clairvoyant is now out of the question," I tried to make light of the topic.

Arn tried a lopsided grin and failed. "What will you do then?"

"I have no idea," I admitted. "I spent the whole evening looking for something interesting, but I am too old and mostly not qualified for anything." I shrugged. "I would like to try secretary, though."

Arn's eyes seemed to fall out of his face. "Secretary?" he almost shouted.

"There's always need of those," I replied. Though I would of course need a huge improvement of my spelling, not to mention punctuation, before anybody would let me close to their mail. "And if I learn in the military, maybe I can end up somewhere in the administration." I relocated the food on my plate.

Of course, there were other plans, within plans and planned disaster, but none of that would help Arn any. And I could use the training anyway. Being able to write formal letters was an art that was generally undervalued. I looked up and smiled feebly. "I won't be out of the world, you know."

"I know, I was just assuming -" Arn sighed.

"Yes," I agreed. "But he is right. I'm a military nitwit. And he has a military to run and later on a whole Empire to organise. It will be easier when I'm out of the way. As long as I'm just a comm call away..."

But Arn was not convinced. I just hoped he didn't try to convince Thrawn in turn that I was an unimaginable asset to the military. Unimaginable, yes; asset, probably not. And my constant nagging about being nice to the Republic would most likely not sit well with the Grand Admiral either.

Training didn't change much, though. Seros made me learn all the proper titles with which to address any given member of the Empire, accompanied by files and files of people to use them on. I wished to remove all of the Imperial political elite suddenly, just to be done with that.

Of course, Seros rejected the idea completely, even suggested in a joke. He's darn proud of his Empire and all this pomp is just to show that they have culture. What a drag. I think that Seros might have spent some time with C'baoth, even if he didn't know. There was no real use in learning intergalactic politics for me. I doubted that the Grand Admiral was suicidal enough to place me in somebody's envoy. Well, except maybe to make that person fall. The idea was funny, but only until I also imagined and extremely displeased Disra ordering some very Imperial punishment on me.

At least, I found out how many people an ambassador's entourage should contain and what their jobs were, how many ambassadors a planet had depending on its rank in the community and how the Imperial Senate worked. Or was supposed to work, because since its dissolving in ANH there was no working model around.

Then the horror began, Seros ordered me to write speeches. Dear Almighty, merciful. I couldn't even start with 'Ladies and Gentlemen', not because of the discrimination of possible gentle_beings_ in the vicinity, but because I was addressing (theoretically) the Empire's finest. 'Honoured guests' was the least I could call them, and no, I did not tell Seros about the many other ideas I had what to call them.

So, provided I ever got to visit a Grand Moffs inauguration ball (_what should I wear?) _in a position important enough to warrant a speech (_I cannot wear a short skirt in such a position, can I?), _and provided the noble host (_let's hope he's hot_) had already announced my speech (_and no showing cleavage, right? Or maybe the more the better, as long as it distracts from my speech?_), I would stand up gracefully (_yeah, Seros, dream on) _and deliver a gem of incomparable rhetorical beauty.

That really had me worried on many levels, and also the line 'Brutus is an honourable man' would mean nothing here. If only Vader had killed Palps with a knife, I might have been able to do something there. I felt very silly holding a pompous speech in front of Seros who didn't approve either because it lacked dignity and grandeur. I was very close to suggesting he procure a fitting outfit for me to deliver the speech in so I could get into the situation better.

C'baoth came and went a few times, always on his way to another battle. Thrawn kept the Jedi on a very tight schedule. I reported what little I knew about the clones, namely the ones already on board had no clue. And I didn't even have to ask Dave to find out. Still, the fact that I actually knew a clone was enough proof for C'baoth that I was doing my job well.

He was most unhappy about his battle duty, though and I had to console him repeatedly that Luke would certainly be tied down somewhere in the aftermath of Sluis Van and would not appear on Jomark at an unfortunate time. Since my predictions concurred with what he felt in the Force, C'baoth was not only assured of the validity of his previsions, but also commended me on mine.

It is decidedly strange to be complimented on an ability you don't posses. I tried not to blush too badly, lest he chide me on my humility again. A Jedi is supposed to be proud of his abilities. That was certainly a lot easier if you actually had aforementioned abilities.

And just when I thought I would never have to show my saber skills, he did find the time for a short sparring. Maybe he did see how lightsabers were on my mind whenever we met. Unlike me, he could read minds. And unlike Arn he could really wield a lighsaber. I was drenched after just a minute and he was far from done.

In the end he just nodded. "The defensive style is in line with who you are, Mellanna, but be aware that it needs the most strength and commitment. The Soresu form is working well only when you really master it. The way will be long."

"I know, Master," I replied, amazed that he had actually recognised my wild swinging as a form of fighting at all. "I am sorry my progress is so slow."

"The use of a lightsaber is not just fighting," C'baoth said, holding up the hilt of his saber between us. "The weapon has to be one with you, a part of your body that you don't think about using consciously. Often you need it to fight, and therefore your style has to fit your personality." He looked me up and down. "I am afraid that the third form fits you best, my Padawan. So be it."

I looked at my feet. So I was a coward now.

He laid a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, Mellanna, the talents are different for all of us. And in the scheme of things you were not meant to be a fighter. You will not need to be one for me either; not with the saber." He smiled assuringly.

I did not find the prospect any assuring, though. Politics were even worse than combat, and you suffered longer because it was rarely lethal. Still I smiled back and tried to be happy that sudden death would be happening to others.

He squeezed my shoulder softly. "Officer Seros reported that your education in imperial politics is going well. Your speeches are not well-polished yet, though."

Oh my. Did Seros show some of that garbles mess to C'baoth? Not that I was any surprised that he was a influenced by the dark Jedi, after all he was responsible for my education. It explained some things, but it also made me worry for his mental health. If C'baoth killed him, even if accidentally, just because he was the one teaching me - I was not sure how good I would take that.

"He is a good teacher," I replied, "very thorough."

C'baoth would leave new assignments and was gone as fast as he would appear. If the battles were fought with the Chimera, I didn't get to know, nobody bothered to tell me. But the emptiness in the 501st gym was usually a clear indication for ongoing battle.

I rarely saw the place with my packed schedule, but I treasured those times. To often for my liking Dave was not there, though. Still, the gym was full of clones. They fought each other in pairs or small groups, all wearing the same black jumpsuits, all looking exactly like Dave. And they were all deadly serious. A few wrong moves and the floor would have been littered with dead stormtroopers.

Every few seconds a fight would end, but not with the usual indications of pain, just like that. They didn't need that kind of signals, they just knew. All like one. And still not the same at all. Despite the obvious violence on display, it was amazingly calming to watch.

It was easy to imagine armour on them, white shapes in a brightly lit environment, and the lack of armour banging against armour gave the impression of a movie with the sound turned off. I smiled.

"Happy?" the voice next to me belonged to a man sounding just like Dave, looking just like Dave, and still. I would have known even without that tiny scar beside his left eye that he was Fi.

"You're like snow," I smiled at him. Realizing that I was not making any sense for somebody not inside my head right then, I shook my head. "I mean yes."

He nodded and moved on, while I curled up around my pad, writing another of those assignments for C'baoth. It was almost like uni again, only with a lot more good looking guys than the whole of my hometown had to offer and classes I could not chose. All in all, it seemed to be a fair trade off.

So there you have another reason why I was unable to update here.


	49. 049

Forty-Nine

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!

Move it!!

Over two months and the waking call still worked perfectly fine. Maybe it was some kind of imprinting that made me react to human voices a lot better than any kind of noise. It just never got old.

The same could not be said about the wafers for breakfast, but being on a Star Destroyer did have advantages. One was that humans from all over the galaxy had eating habits even more varied than on earth. Besides what looked like classic European or western foods the mix included dishes that seemed to be Asian, African or very exotic indeed.

This day, I decided on a soup that sported unexpected crunchy bits. I almost choked on one of those, when my pad suddenly blared to life and informed me loudly of a change in plans and that I better move my sorry butt into meeting room (insert stupid designation here) immediately. With a sigh I got up, grabbed some wafers anyway and went off.

Sudden changes, whatever. I hoped it was not C'baoth, ready to take me wherever. It turned out to be worse, instead of C'baoth I got Thrawn. He did not look very happy, but then, when did he ever?

"The information you wanted destroy is cleaned form this galaxy almost completely," he informed me. "There is the small matter of a Mandalorian very loth to part with it, though. Since you did not want him eliminated either, you will deal with the problem yourself."

Like? What? Who? Me? I mean, what did he want to tell me? Of course, the Mando in question was Jaing, but he was supposed to have the information, it might still be needed for Boba Fett later. So the obvious conclusion was -

"You will meet with Jaing Skirata on Ord Mantell -" this is where my head shut down. I stared at the Grand Admiral and saw his lips move, but nothing reach my brain. I was going to meet a Null ARC. Thrawn must be joking. Bad joke, very bad joke.

But he wasn't joking. Probably seeing how my eyes glazed over and my face turned blank, he waited until my brain had rebooted before explaining the mission ahead again. Mission, that did sound serious, even if it was actually just going places, meeting Jaing Skirata _(sic!)_ convincing him of my plans _(my plans?)_ and getting my ass back to the _Chimera_.

"This is Barhekh, one of my bodyguards," he pointed at a Noghri that seemed to appear from thin air. "He will travel with you as protector and minder."

I nodded stunned at the mere prospect to travel with a Noghri not to mention the mind-boggling destination. "I greet you, Barhekh," I said and unthinkingly held out mi hand palm down.

He took it and pressed his muzzle against it, inhaling deeply. "Greetings, Mellanna Morrison," he replied. "I shall not forget your scent again. I shall find you."

I nodded again, not doubting him. But I was going to meet Jaing Skirata! The thought took up most of my mind. Having a Noghri as travel companion only mad things worse. I didn't even think about the implications of Barhekh's threat.

"The Chimera will drop out of hyperspace in ten minutes to drop you," Thrawn spoke up again. "I suggest you have your ship ready by then, Private."

"Yes, Sir!" I snapped into a salute. "On my way."

I did wait until he had dismissed me though, before barraging out and running for the hangars. Ten minutes, that was not much time to get from one end of an Star Destroyer to the other. Barhekh had no trouble at all keeping up with me, almost like a second shadow, certainly as grey and even as silent.

In the hangar we were directed towards something that looked like a cross of the Millenium Falcon and a heap of trash. Apart from being tiny, it was obviously old and about to fall apart. At least it was an YT model, Toris had been teaching me about those. I might even be of help.

"Can you fly the ship?" I asked Barhekh.

"I can," he meowed, "but I have been ordered not to."

"Oh, great! We are so dead," I muttered under my breath.

The ramp lowered and I found the way into the cockpit mostly because it led right through something like a mini-lounge for three dwarves and then there was nowhere else to go. Two seats faced a canopy of transparisteel. The thought of having nothing between me and space but that made cold sweat break out on my palms.

I strapped in carefully. This was so different from simulations, this was - like playing Gran Turismo and then trying to drive a car. Swallowing hard, I initiated the warm up sequenced, checked all systems, hull integrity and fuel. All lights were of a soothing green, there was nothing between me and my first journey in space - except a hangar full of ships. Even if I did get pay, it would most likely be confiscated for a quite while once I was through here.

Some joker had named the freighter _Liberty_ for the time being, but right now that was not amusing. I got my clearance and there was no way back. Slowly I powered up the repulsors and the ship lifted from the deck. So far, so good. I managed to hold it at a convenient height without too much wobbling, turned the nose to face the exit and sent a quick prayer to heaven. Though, knowing my luck, God was not responsible for the GFFA.

The _Liberty_ did a jump forward as I eased the throttle on and it felt like riding a kangaroo for a while. To my amazement, I didn't hit anything, and then I was out of the hangar. Star-dotted space surrounded us on all sides as I headed the ship away from the _Chimera_. After a moment, the Star Destroyer vanished in a flicker of pseudo-motion and was gone. I stared ahead until Barhekh spoke up.

"You might want to calculate the jump to Ord Mantell," his melodic voice suggested.

"Um, yes, sorry," I stuttered. "This is my first time in space -" I caught myself before I actually started babbling, and told the nav computer to calculate a convenient course. In a matter of seconds, it did and I punched it into the system. Then I grasped the lever and stared at the countdown. Had anybody ever mentioned what happened if you didn't pull the lever in time?

I didn't dare close my eyes and almost yanked the lever out of the dashboard when the counter hit zero. Then I slowly relaxed as the stars elongated and turned into the moving patterns of hypespace. So far, so good. I was not dead. Yet. I sat back and took several deep breaths.

After calming down, I began to wonder if Barhekh was allowed to talk to me and about which topics. The prospect of talking to a Noghri was intriguing. Well, as it turned out, the Grand Admiral had that covered. Instead of small talk, I got on the ship training. Barhek knew a lot more about the TY-700 than I ever would, but he was doing his best of cramming all of it into my head.

By the time we reached Ord Mantell, I had almost forgotten that I'd have to land the ship on my own. Oh well, what was up must come down, or something like that. I strapped back in, didn't disintegrate the ship when coming out of hyperspace and even found the comm to reply the call from the space port we were headed.

Getting a pad to land was easy, finding it, too. Then I just had to put the ship down on it. According to the size of the _Liberty_, the pad was tiny. And I was not allowed to leave the shields on and just burn away everything in my way. The lack of walls surrounding the public landing pad also meant that any contact would damage another ship as well as mine. It was being back in driving school, trying to park the car backwards and sideways for the first time. Only that you had shiny new Lamborghinis standing around instead of piles of old tires.

I set the ship down with a bump that made the transparisteel shake, but without inflicting damage to anything else. Barhekh looked less than impressed by my abilities. A pile of civilian clothing was waiting behind the pilot's chair. That was a very good idea, since I was still in my Imperial jumpsuit. Sporting the Imperial Seal on my shoulders was probably not a good idea on a place that was either neutral or already New Republic space.

The clothes were several shades of brown and so non-descript that even I had forgotten what they looked like as soon as I had them on. A few credits would buy me a drink of Jaing's choice, and then all I would have to do was wait. I memorised the way I had to take from the space port and hoped that for the way back, Barhekh would be there to help me.

The meeting place was a tap café, a small place with many nooks and corners, perfect if you didn' want to be seen. I lost track of Barhekh ten steps after leaving the ship, but I was sure he was around somewhere. The café was packed, and it took some time until I reached the bar and could order Nindan tea with frooja syrup. For my few credits I got a pretty big mug of steaming tea, the scent a mix of sweet and spicy that made my eyes water. I embarked on the journey to find a free place to sit down. And in one corner, like an island in the crowd, stood a tiny, unoccupied table. Even I could read that kind of invitation.

So I sat down, curled my hands around my cup and began to wait. After a while, I sipped on my tea. It was extra hot, hot meaning spicy, it almost burned the roof of my mouth off. Additionally it was sweet enough to glue my teeth together. Oh my, what passed as tea in this galaxy. It was most impressive.

After some more waiting and getting used to the tea, the situation began to get to me. I was here, in a place wherever, and in any second, I would meet a Skirata. Darn. I had a bad case of Skiratas, this would not end well! This would be more the end of me than Thrawn because he was a bad guy and supposedly dead, and anyway, who cared, this was a real Null ARC!! And I was beginning to think with too many exclamation marks attached to everything!!! This was so, so !!!!!

zOMG I was about to meet Jaing Skirata, SRSLY!!!111!1! HOLEE POODU!!!11!!one!!1! z0MG CAN YOU BLIVE IT???!11!one! OMG! IM GONNA FAINT!!!11!!  
1 CAN HARDLY S1T ST1LL!!!!11!  
1 WUNDER WUT HEL B LIEK??!! zOMG Y ME??!1!

It was hard to have my brain flooded with random exclamation marks and capitals lacking vocals. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the warm mug in my hands. Take a deep breath. Another. That was better.

I opened my eyes again and looked at – Jaing. He looked nothing like Kal, of course. Actually he did look exactly like a clone, provided you dyed his hair blonde and gave him blue contacts. The effect was startling and I was staring. And staring. And staring and staring and staring.

I couldn't stop and that is the reason I didn't update here.


	50. 050

Fifty

"Finished?" His voice broke into my thoughts.

What a voice, I loved it immediately, almost like Dave and still so different. I shook my head, pressing my lids shut for a moment. "Sorry," I got out. The lack of capitalisation and exclamation marks was a pleasant surprise. "I never, I mean - sorry."

"You've never seen a clone before?" It was amazing how he got a sense of challenge across with such a resigned tone. He crossed his arm before his chest, half raising an eye brow.

"Um, no," I replied. "It's just," I hesitated, "the hair and eye colour and, and, and they're not Null ARCs."

The brow climbed all the way up in an unspoken question.

I didn't know what to say, so I decided just to watch. There was enough of him there to watch for sure. And almost invisible lines around his eyes, that made me wish he'd laugh and -

"You're from the Empire." It was not a question. "And you meddle in affairs that are nothing to you."

Ouch. Though he was about right. I never met a Kaminoan clone, I never would meet any of them except Jaing right now because - because. Not here, not now, not ever. I clenched my hands around the cup. I had to keep those thoughts at bay, no good would come out of it if I went all fangirly. Well, more than I had already.

"I just want to help." Brilliant beginning, but it was too late now, better not think of the perfect memory he had. Darn, he was so finished with me already. "I don't know how to start, or where. Let's just say I know a lot of things I shouldn't and some events of the future are among them. Somebody might want to use the research data of Dr. Uthan to create a nano-virus that targets clones - and their offspring. It will be released above Mandalore and I don't think anybody gets an advance warning. That's why I want all copies destroyed."

Jaing watched me with intent silence.

"I cannot prove any of this. I can only try to convince you I am right." I wondered what from his past I could safely tell him. He might just kill me if I crossed a line, one I couldn't even see. "For one, I know about those gloves of yours, and it creeps me out."

No reaction there. Okay, new idea. "I also know that Kal Skirata," how I _not_ dared to call him Kal right now, "gave names to all twelve of you, even if only six actually survived. You tried to shoot your way out of Kamino with his weapon when you were only two, and I really don't know what would convince you and I'm blabbering. Sorry."

I took a sip from my tea and tried to concentrate. "What I want to say, what's important in the end, I mean, -"

"You are still babbling."

I looked into those blue eyes and tried to imagine how they'd look if they were brown. Blue was a lot colder, I wondered if that was on purpose. I nodded. "Might well be." Why was this so difficult?

"Disregarding my possible motives for a moments, I cannot force you to help me. I don't know what the Grand Admiral has said or done," and I hope never to find out, "so we might not be approaching the same problem here. All I want to do, is make sure that data doesn't get into the wrong hands. And those could be any - but yours."

I had to pause and fight a blush. "I don't want that nano-virus to happen, and I certainly don't want it anywhere close to _Manda'ya_-lore." Ack. Slip of tongue, but if he heard it (who was I fooling?), he showed no reaction. "So whatever you do with the data , do not share! With nobody. Keep it, but keep it safe. There might be a future _Mand'alor_ who might need it."

Jain cocked his head slightly, but still said nothing. I hated when people did that, that was my job. I drank some more tea. After a while I began to wonder if threw s anything more I should say. Anything convincing.

"Is that all?" His voice was as cold as his eyes. And still, and still…

"I think so. I don't know what else to say."

"Then aswere these: What's in it for you? Why should I believe a word? And why should you care?"

He was the third who asked me that last one here. I had had no idea this was such a popular question. And I still had no answer that made sense for anybody. "Okay, number one," I began, "I get to put something right and knowing it won't happen will make me feel happy. Two, tell me how to convince you and I'll do it. Three, just let me care, will you. My unhealthy fixations are my own problem. I care."

For a while he just looked at me, considering. "Proof, hm," he sounded almost amused. "You come with me now, and I'll show a way to prove."

"Okay," I nodded and got up, not bothering to empty my mug. But he didn't follow suit. Instead his gaze rested on my hip where getting up revealed - the lightsaber. Of course, I had that on me. I might be bad with it, but I had hoped people would think twice before even trying to assault me. Had worked well enough, too.

"Oh, that," I waved my hands over it dismissively. "Just ignore that, it has nothing to say…"

I sat down again, following the clear order his gesture was. Clasping my hands around the mug again, I wondered what conclusion he had come to.

"Who gave it to you?" he wanted to know. "I don't assume you took it by force."

"Hell, no!" I said. "I couldn't apply force if my live depended on it. I mean, not The Force, I can't use that at all, but also I am rather peaceable. If possible, I avoid conflict. It was given to me by a mad man who thinks I'm a Jedi." I shrugged helplessly. "I just can't convince him I'm not, rather annoying, really." I was babbling again.

"Not a Jedi, not an Imperial, not a rebel," he said. "What side _are_ you on?"

"I am never completely on anybody's side, because nobody is ever completely on my side either!" Whoops had I really said that? Obviously, and it was actually true enough. I shrugged again. "My loyalties are only with people, disregarding what side they pledged their loyalty to. I try to protect those I care for and I won't start justifying the whys and whos now. Just promise you won't share the data and I'll leave and be happy."

"Just like that?" He didn't sound convinced.

I nodded. "Just promise."

"I promise." Now he didn't sound serious. Oh, well.

"Let's do one better," I suggested, holding out my hand. "I will not bother you again. _Haat, ijaa, haa'it_!"

He hesitated. Probably not sure what to make off me.

"I want a promise, you'll keep," I explained, a smile tugging at my mouth. "Nothing else."

"I will keep the data under lock and key. _Haat, ijaa, haa'it," _he said, taking my arm at the elbow and I managed not to wince in his firm grip. "But you will be watched."

"I have a Grand Admiral breathing down my neck and also owning my butt, Talon Karrde is unhappy with my free distribution of information, and Mr. Crazy wants to make a Jedi out of me. Ask me if I care if you watch me on top of that." I had to grin. "And please don't be offended if it makes me feels more safe, not less."

I got that look again, many people here seemed to have for me. It spelled 'crazy' in huge letters and dismissed me as harmless. "Anything else, you want to say?"

I shook my head. There was altogether too much I wanted to say, and ask and know. How was everybody? Where they alive? Mird was not here, that was no proof, but could I hope? And Kal? What about Dar and Niner, the girls? Were they happy? What about Venku?

But there was no place for me anywhere in that corner of the GFFA. All I could do was try to save them and be happy they still were around. I needed to get out. I had to put this behind me, it was overall too tempting. I closed my eyes shortly, clenching my hands around the mug.

"No." _Live happy, find love, have your dreams come true, see your children grow up and die with the satisfaction of knowing what you achieved._ "Nothing I can think of."

I emptied the mug and got up again. "I won't say 'til we meet again', because I think we won't. Farewell."

I turned my back at him and left the tap café. My head was spinning, but at least I had gotten that promise. All I need, all I'll get, not what I want at all. I went a few steps, taking a bend and another before I stopped, resting my back against a wall and tried to get my breath back.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	51. 051

Fifty-One

"It was not necessary to wait for me," Barhekh said at my elbow. I had not seen him coming, neither had I heard him.

"I didn't." I showed him my badly shaking hands and took another deep breath. I just had to calm down, but that was easier said than done. "Now all we have to do is find a bakery and-" I stopped myself staring at my last credit. Oh joy.

"Problems?" A man with light brown hair smiled easily at us and a for reasons I didn't understand, I just knew he was Bardan Jusik. I wondered if he tried to read me through the Force and how I'd show up. Right now, I felt about everything at once.

"Not really," I replied, holding up the credit, "If we can find a place that sells me enough _uj'alayi_ for at least two men for this."

He took the chip from my hand and read its denomination. "Unlikely," he then said.

"I thought so," putting my hand on Barhekh's shoulder I turned to leave.

"What about this?" Jusik called, the credit still in his hand.

"Keep it." I waved my hand vaguely. "I won't have any use for it where I go."

"Then why leave?" He smiled again, all sincerity and helpfulness.

My hand tightened around Barhekh's shoulder. Did he know what he was asking, offering? Could he read the effect of his talk in my signature. Of course, I wanted to just leave, run off with clan Skirata and be done. The prospect of maybe meeting the old _chakaar_ was pure temptation, not to mention Vau and all the others. How had they fared? Who was still alive, and what about Venku?

But was there anything I could do? I would be a horrible Mando, I am too peaceful to fight, I don't like violence, and I don't think I could kill anybody. And there was no guarantee anybody would actually like me. I mean, what did I think? And how old they were by now? I really needed more arguments against going. I looked at Jusik. Even if he was serious, why should anybody else be, why should even he be? I had to be more suspicious. Everything was just show. Don't trust anybody.

But this was _Jusik_.

My inner fangirl grabbed a knife and tried to cut herself loose. He was the way to clan Skirata. The names seemed to loom over my head, slowly pushing me down. If I didn't go now -

"Help me Bardan Jusik!" I stifled a sob. _Oh, great_. "I don't know what to do. I can't do anything. Everything falls apart." _How are the others. Tell me everything_. I bit my tongue. I actually did and hard enough to taste blood and feel tears spring to my eyes. "I cannot come with you. God knows I want to but I can't. There's things I need to do. Things to prevent and I don't know what to do."

He closed the space between us and put a hand on my shoulder. Whatever else it was he did, I became a lot calmer immediately. Realising I was still squeezing the living Sith out of Barhekh's shoulder I let go of him.

"Better now?"

I looked from my feet back at his face and felt very embarrassed. "Yes, thank you."

"What about a deal? I help you to some _uj'alayi_, and in return you help me make sense of this. And that," he added pointing at my lightsaber.

"Just my personal souvenir of the Clone Wars," I sighed. "Got a mad and cloned Jedi Master breathing down my neck, nothing that needs to trouble you. He's just - crazy. Thinks I'm Force sensitive and can't be convinced of the opposite."

"You might not be trying hard enough." He steered me down the street. Barhekh didn't do anything except looking incredibly docile, almost as if he was no danger at all. I would have to ask him about that later, I mean, with a face like that, how could he ?

"Plans within plans," I admitted. "Right now it's the lesser evil. And I get to play with a saber." I laughed mirthlessly. "And I am getting those delusions of grandeur and think I can save the galaxy."

"And you try to do so by threatening a Skirata?" He sounded amused.

"Never," I answered. "That was the Grand Admiral's great plan, I think. I am only taking care of Dr. Uthan's research."

"Or so I heard. Which is also a strange way to save the galaxy."

"I just start small," I justified myself. "I though, if I had -" There was my cultural problem again. How was I to explain the idea of having a safe Shire to return to to him? Jusik had surely never heard of hobbits before, and certainly not of Frodo and Sam. I scratched my head. "A safe place you believe you can go back to, even if it's an illusion," I finally said.

"It's not an illusion," Jusik said softly.

"For me, it is. It's not, I cannot, I mean, but as long as you and the others - I can't save anybody really, can I?"

"Not on your own," he agreed. "So what's the plan?"

"In a few words? Stop the war, prepare the troops, vanquish the Vong and hope there's not so many dead in the end. But there are too many dead already."

"Vong?" Jusik didn't sound convinced. "Never heard of them."

"You can't. They're extra galactic." I stopped and turned to face him. "I don't care what you _Mando'ade_ do until they arrive, just don't join them when they do. They'll use you and then invade the planet? Sound familiar? Promise me to kick Boba's butt if he tries to ally you with them."

Jusik raised a brow at the mention of Boba Fett. "Why should he?"

"Because it seems sensible then?" i asked back. "Because he can? Because he still doesn't like the Jedi and the enemy of my enemy is my friend? Only that he isn't and will kick you butts big time. And when I said, I don't care, that's a lie. I do."

"I know. Though you are not very structured in your thoughts, you are easy to read." He resumed walking.

Well, thank you very much. Wasn't it nice to know how easy I was to read for everybody. I bet even Dave knew exactly what I would be doing next. So much for being the mysterious woman.

"Read this then." I took a deep breath. "I don't know how to make the Empire and Republic cooperate. I don't know how to stop the Vong. I can only hope that doing so will prevent the rise of yet another Sith Lord. And I can only pray, that what I did will keep the clones and their offspring safe on Mandalore."

"I listened carefully. But I have no idea either. Is there nothing useful for us to know in there?" He tapped on the side of my forehead.

For a moment I thought hard, but there was really nothing. I knew nothing about Mandos, their past, their future and that Jaina thing would never happen if things went the way _I_ intended. "Only the past," I shook my head sadly, "and a future that will hopefully never happen."

"As long as you don't forget that they are not the only clones around." He winked and entered a small shop.

Barhekh pulled on my sleeve, so I stayed out side with him. How did he know about Thrawn's clones already? Or did he mean something else entirely. How many clones were there in SW anyway? Palpy's, Thrawn's and - Palpy's… Oh noes. When were those on the time line? Now, later, over already? If only I had been more a stickler for continuity, I would have known that now. _Bleep!_

When Jusik returned with a small bag, I swallowed hard. "I might have some bad news, though. Like a reborn Palpatine."

He gave me a hard stare. "Reborn?"

"Like - cloned," I hesitated. "He was after that technology and research of Ko Sai, wanted to clone himself. Well, actually, he wanted her to alter his genes so he'd be immortal, but she didn't and so he clones himself and transfers his mind into the young bodies. Except if that already happened. That would be nice."

"Wouldn't it now." He handed over the bag almost like in trance. "But try as I might, I can't remember anything like that. Can't feel anything either." His eyes focussed on me again. "Where?"

"Um, Byss?" I suggested. "I think that's where most of his bodies are, don't ask me what he's doing with them right now, because he's obviously not using them yet. The planet has huge defences, I think, but if I remember correctly Fett managed to get through."

"And if you don't?" he snapped.

"He didn't die trying, I mean later he became - anyway, Byss. He's got dark Jedi protecting the facility, too." How I liked to bring good news. "I'll think about a way to handle him, I still have my Grand Admiral, right?"

Jusik looked at me as if he hadn't even listened. "And what will an Imperial do against the Emperor?" He asked. "And who would be following him?"

I looked at my boots again. Even if Disra was substituted with Deerian, he might be one Grand Moff among how many to actually follow Thrawn? Darn politics again. I began to understand why people thought it easier to shoot out things with a blaster. "Luke can help," I offered.

"Skywalker?" Jusik did not sound as if he liked the idea. "First off all, I'll have to check on your information."

"And we must leave," I said quickly. Better get going before some more nasty things from the EU came back to haunt me. Cloned Emperors, now really. Was that necessary? "I'm on the Chimera, just in case," I said. I mean, he still had the galaxy's best hackers in his clan, right? They'd find a way so send a message in case of need. Or a commando to abduct me, but that was something I was not sure whether to put down as nightmare or fangirly dream. No one had ever bothered to abduct me so far.

"We can find you," he said nodding, and though his mind was clearly in another place, he managed to make it a threat and a promise at the same time. I was doomed. But tell me something new. Barhekh led me back to the port, I would never have found that after the detour.

Too bad I couldn't drop into the co-pilot's chair after the ramp sealed up and just feel sorry for myself. Well, in that case, I could always make others feel sorry. The _Liberty_ jumped into the sky almost at a ninety degree angle.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	52. 052

Fifty-Two

Surprisingly enough, we returned with something resembling military precision. I had just begun to slow down the _Liberty_ when the Chimera dropped out of hyperspace. Now that is a spectacle. One moment only emptiness and tiny stars, next moment a huge Star Destroyer bulking over you, blotting out half the sky.

I identified myself, and since Imperials are clever and value their property, was allowed to shut down and be taken in by a tractor beam. The journey itself had been uneventful. No space pirates, no malfunctions, no repairs. Barhekh had tried, of course, but I just couldn't.

After putting on my jumpsuit again I had sat staring at the swirling blue outside the canopy and even the Noghri had to admit that my mind was even further away than Coruscant. Anything he could have told me would have been forgotten the very next moment. I had put the cake behind the pilot's chair because clutching it desperately could not improve the sate of it any. Instead I clutched my lightsaber, but after it accidentally went on, Barhekh took it and instead put the tunic into my hands.

"Those two men, they were offering me a home."

"But you are still here."

I kneaded the tunic; wondering briefly whether to take up knitting so all this useless activity of my hands would turn productive; and nodded. Still here. Nowhere to go, no place to call home. I closed my eyes and leaned back in the chair. "I want a home, a place to belong to, Barhekh."

"Everybody does," he just said.

"Yes, and no matter how desolate it is, nothing compares." I suddenly wondered why I hadn't done anything about the Noghri's situation yet. They were slaves, too, and with no hope of escape. If they could be freed, would Rhukh still kill Thrawn? I though about a big grey orb hanging in space, it's soil poisoned beyond repair. He might still; I would, if I was him.

"I have nothing," I said softly. "Torn from all I know, all my cultural references useless, all my knowledge void, nobody to know a song from my past - I don't wish it on my worst enemy."

"I would say 'it will pass', but all you can do is deal with it." He got up and vanished somewhere in the bowels of the freighter.

I kept staring. He was right, but that didn't mean I had to like it. I didn't.

As soon as we were docked, my pad blared back to life. I was sure that I had stayed away a bit longer than a whole day, even if I had just slept a little on the way back, lulled to sleep by hyperspace. I had thought that I would get some dinner and go to bed, but obviously somebody had different plans for me. With a sigh, I looked at my new schedule. At least it gave me time for a quick shower and snack.

After that I had a debriefing with the Grand Admiral. Oh joy. I was sure the break granted to me was because he had been talking to Barhekh. It was not as if I had anything to hide. Not consciously, or at least nothing Barhekh new of. This was beginning to turn really difficult. If I could just remember who by now knew what, then I could maybe project what they were going to do. Or not.

Unlike me, Thrawn did not look as if such thoughts ever troubled him.

"I assume the mission was completed to your satisfaction," he said, nothing showing in his coolly modulated voice.

"Yes, Sir, I anticipate no more trouble in that respect." Somehow I wished I could use my voice like that and not show at all what I was feeling, or if I was feeling anything at all.

"That is settled then. Any progress on your final compensations yet?" He raised a bow.

For a moment I chewed on my lip thinking, then I shook my head slowly. "I am sorry, Sir. I am afraid the matter slipped my memory. I will give it consideration now." Provided he didn't give me another completely capturing task that would set my mind on other things. Though, in a way, I hoped he would. I knew, kinda, what I wanted and was scared to ask. Because it would be killing millions. Or saving them. Or just affecting nothing at all. It really, really scared me.

"I heard you mentioned a reborn Emperor?" His voice broke into my thoughts.

I nodded. "Probably on Byss."

"Will he interfere with the campaign?"

"No," I shook my head. "But once you're dead, or not dead in this case, he will. I am not sure what he'd do though."

"Will your Mandalorians stop him?"

_My_ Mandalorians? Whatever, I thought that Jusik would most likely try, he didn't have much love for Palps. That worried me because even if he took a complete and completely enraged clan Skirata with him, his chances were still bad.

"I think they will try," I finally said. "Bardan Jusik, a Jedi, is affiliated to them and they might have more Force users. But I don't know how successful they will be. Even Skywalker had great difficulties defeating the reborn Emperor."

"Any ideas?" I was pretty sure he was highly amused by - something.

"Maybe a group of loyal men can try to work their way inside the facility?" I mused. "Pretending to be following rumours or such. Since there are dark Jedi around, I don't know how good that would work, though."

"Good," his voice was still calm, but there was that flicker in his eyes again. So he was playing with me. At least that amused one of us. "You will devise a plan for the infiltration of Byss with DV-384. Dismissed."

I walked out of the room on automatic. Did he just tell me to send Dave to Byss and - and like what? Die? Now that was a friggin stupid game; one I refused to play. Though, then somebody else would be set to the task, and I could not help the least. Provided I was any help right now. My head was already spinning again. I needed to talk to Dave. And before I could do that, I needed a huge pot of caf, because I felt like a sleep walker.

The Force was with me, one snigger point for using the expression, and I did find Dave in the gym. "Hey," I greeted him, unable to even try and shake hands since mine were completely full. "I have good cake and bad news. If you have a moment?"

He eyed the items I carried, and gave a short shake of his head.

"Okay." I shrugged, holding out the bag to him. "This is for you. And if Thrawn approaches you with some kind of suicide mission I am afraid that was my idea, and I am sorry, I never meant to -"

"I already know," he cut me short.

"Oh," I said, feeling rather awkward with my hand still held out and holding the bag. But I couldn't for the life of me think of anything to do. "Oh."

Finally he took the bag and I could curl my hands around the thermos' I was holing, one filled with caf, the other containing hot chocolate.

"There will be another time to talk," he simply said.

"I, - okay." I sagged. "I just want you to know that I didn't suggest it thinking of you -"

"Or any of my brothers," he interrupted me again.

I felt myself blush and looked at my boots. "Not thinking at all, I'm afraid."

"Well, we'll have to make sure than that we don't get killed, huh?" I _think_ he winked before he turned and went back to exercising.

"Yeah, better make sure," I whispered. And there was only one person I trusted to make sure and unfortunately, that was me. At least, that would be after the campaign. I would need Luke for this, I thought and wondered if it would be possible to twist the removal of the Emperor into a piece of peace between the Empire and the Republic. Probably, I had Thrawn, after all.

For a long while I just watched the 501st. If I had hoped that things would become easier over time, I was badly disappointed. The longer I stayed, the more complicated everything became. And things went nothing at all like my personal Mary Sue Story. I watched Dave. No, they were not, not at all.

I returned to my room and began to make notes of everything I could remember of the reborn Emperor stuff and then added what I could find on Byss, dark Jedi and anything that looked remotely useful in killing Palpatine again.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	53. 053

Fifty-Three

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!

Move it!!

I felt the urge to roll off the bed and curl up in a corner where nobody could find me. Fat chance. So instead I stumbled upright and got ready for the day. Being the wimp I am, I didn't dare waken me with cold water, I only washed my face with it after the sonic. The woman in the mirror looked disgruntled and stuck out her tongue at me. Stupid bitch.

For breakfast I had some porridge and washed down two double stim-cafs with my usual tea. I felt almost awake and slightly human after that. On my pad a half-finished speech for Seros languished, I would certainly disappoint him with that. Maybe I should just try to make the whole speech resemble one of those American Moments that ruined so many good action movies. If only I was any good with pathos.

Sparring with Arn went fine, though he seemed a bit down.

"Sorry I didn't leg it and freed you from babysitting service?" He didn't even react and that was more than strange. I began to worry. "That bad, huh?" I continued. "Well, next time I get the offer to run off twice in one day, I'll just do it. Promise."

He smiled labouredly. "That is no joking matter, Ms. Morrison," he chided half-heartedly. "Treason never is."

With a sigh I lowered my saber. "I would lie if I said I hadn't considered it, _really_ considered it." I shrugged. "But then I thought I could do more here, effect something, change things."

"Which is still not loyalty," Arn countered.

"No, it's not," I agreed. "But it's all I have to offer right now. And I have sworn allegiance to Thrawn until this is over. I think."

"The problem is that we all know what happens when you think, Mellanna." He was obviously getting his humour back, or at least, his act together.

"Better keep me close then, so you can have emergency interventions," I suggested.

"We already do that." Though he smiled, I had the bad feeling he was actually saying the truth. Did I really want to know how bad I had messed up? Or maybe what I messed up for starters. Right now it was enough that the cloud of glumness had vanished from over Arn's head. Too bad it returned as soon as we had lunch.

"You're drinking an awful lot of that lately," he commented pointing at my second cup of konot tea.

I shrugged. "I really like it, and after some experimenting, I am rather scared of trying something new." If there was lemonade stashed away anywhere in the Empire, it was not aboard the Chimera, or maybe hoarded by the officers and Ol' Redeyes himself. I couldn't really blame them. But the effect was that anything looking like a fizzy drink, was mostly yukky. Lemonade without sugar just didn't work. "Tea is just about my fave drink, okay?"

I made sure that I didn't take a third mug, though. That would have to wait until after holding my speech for Seros. _Highly appreciated gentlebeings, let me assure you how honoured I am to be here to day, presenting to you _- um, I had already forgotten what I was supposed to present. Some kind of tinsel most likely..._ for your loyalty to the Empire knows no bounds and your valour is beyond comparison. Blah. Hang it on your chest, man, and hurry, I got better things to do._

Too bad I couldn't tell Seros about the Byss project, AByss project in my mind already; deep dark, no return. I did not want to know what C'baoth would do if he found out there was a cloned Emperor around. He was bad enough already, and I hoped he'd stay away for a while now. I really had my head full.

Seros was not happy with my speech. He did like the bits I hated most, but that was useful knowledge either way. More pathos, more hyperbole, more everything; military pomp and flags in every sentence. He had me bowing and curtsying for the rest of the time, introducing myself to everybody in just the right shade of devotion. It was as well that I was not to greet anybody anytime soon. I was sorely tempted to ram my bowed head into the next belly and then go on a happy killing rampage.

It was amazing how quietly and effectively the routines had me again. Fighting, talking, getting shouted at by Toris, who was not the least impressed by my feat of returning the _Liberty_ in one piece. Instead he had me on double duty as soon as he realized Barhekh had not been able to teach me on the way back from Ord Mantell. I crawled through the innards of the freighter for several days, and I am sure Toris took extra pains to get me extra familiar with the ship.

"It's the prototype of all YT freighters," he kept saying. "Know this one and you can handle them all."

He might be completely correct about that, but still I saw no need to be able to handle any freighter at all. I did okay with the _Liberty_ and I hoped that if Thrawn decided to send me places again, I would be able to use it again. So I imagined crawling through the _Falcon_ and driving Han nuts while Toris shouted orders into the repair ducts. Thank heaven they were to narrow for the two of us. I am sure that een ahd he been right beside me, he would have shouted nevertheless.

The only change in my daily schedule were the now official meetings with Dave. We were to plan the infiltration of Byss and the ensuing battle for it in which the reborn Emperor was to be the top causality. I just hoped the Grand Admiral had Plan B sitting somewhere working out something that would, well work. But for now I wouldn't complain. I got to see more of Dave and all officially.

Official in his case meant full body armour, though his helmet sat neatly on the table. "So, what is that plan you have for infiltrating Byss?"

"I don't have any," I had to admit.

"Clever," he grinned. "That way I don't have to trash it and turn it into something feasible."

"I do have ideas," I protested feebly.

"That's what I feared, let's hear them." He leaned back.

This was obviously not going as planned. Not the way I had planned it anyway, but maybe I should have been just happy Dave wasn't all business and protocol. "First we need new intel, accurate stuff and reliable."

"Good start." I was not sure if his raised brow was mocking me or not. "How do you intend to get that?"

Okay, mocking me. But was it my fault I didn't know jack about military proceedings and such. Probably, since so far, I hadn't done anything to amend it. So I took the lesson on gathering intel and didn't even mention all the ideas I had for the time we had any news. Not that I liked any of the ideas Dave had. Most of them included sending troopers directly to Byss and have them probably killed. I know that arguing that point wouldn't go anywhere but I just had to do it.

"You'll never be a military leader if you cannot accept losses," Dave scolded.

"Well, good thing that it's not on my wish list of future employments," I snapped.

"You are still assuming you have an influence on your future occupations?" I really had to find out how he managed to get the notion of rolling his eyes across only with the tone of his voice.

"Can't we do some kind of extraction if the spies get sent on a mission?" I insisted. "Or they could volunteer?"

"Too complicated to organise," he replied. "We can keep the option as a back door in case of extremely good luck, but we cannot count on it."

"But they will die!" I objected.

"Yes."

"But -" I could think of nothing to say. They were going to die and it would be all my fault. Because I couldn't think of a way to erase Byss that wouldn't cost any lives, because Dave couldn't, because nobody could. I stared intently at my hands.

"Would you rather go yourself?"

Actually, I had considered that, but I'd just mess up everything. I was not a trooper, much less a spy and my chances of achieving anything were zero. I shook my head. "Wouldn't work."

"Good, realisation is step one into the right direction," Dave said.

I think he tried to be nice, not that it worked any. If only I was a regular character here, they always had the right ideas just in the right time. I couldn't think of anything. Nothing at all.

And that is the reason I didn't update.


	54. 054

Fifty-Four

I woke to the cold certainty that this was my birthday. I had gotten used to the five day weeks and figuring out what that was in my normal time; and this was the day. And nobody knew. Correction: nobody here knew. At home, I shivered, at home everybody was just too certain to remember. And on a day like that, wouldn't I be missing?

I pressed my eyes shut. The image of my sister standing at my door with a cake, because we always baked a cake for the other on our birthdays. The image of the cake made my stomach hurt. The image of my sister made my heart hurt.

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

__

Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!

_Move it!!_

Saved by the clock and just in time. I hurried to get into the refectory and among people. There was no telling what stupid stuff I might do if left to my own glum thoughts. I washed down a cup of stim caf before even choosing something to eat. I wasn't really hungry, and nothing looked like is consisted mostly of chocolate or melted cheese. In my mood, I would have taken a combination of the two even. So I grabbed the first thing that looked like a acceptable breakfast in size and flopped down on a chair. Happy Birthday to me.

Suddenly Arn sat down at the other side of the table, grinning. When he saw my face he frowned. "Not happy being that old, are you? But Happy Birthday anyway." He put a small box on the table and pushed it towards me.

Baffled I took it. "How …?" I began.

"Oh, the protocols from the first questionings, you were rather accurate in them," he grinned. "The scrutiny of them is almost over by now, though."

The idea that there were people until this day poring over everything I had said when I arrived bothered me somehow. I was not sure what else they could find in there, except enough numbers to construe my birthday. Shaking my head I concentrated on the box. It was made of a dark material that strained to imitate wood, a small black latch held the lid closed. Carefully, I opened it.

A scent wafted up as if somebody had put a raspberry drop into a perfectly perfect English lemon tea. I inhaled deeply with my eyes closed before I opened the lid completely and took a pinch of the content. It was crumbly, almost as dark as the box and iridescent bits of blue seemed to float in it. "Tea?" I looked at Arn unbelievingly.

"Tea," he affirmed. "One of the best the Core has to offer, and I say that myself." He grinned happily.

"But how -?"

"Oh, I am sure you can get an immersion heater, cup and tea ball here," he winked. Obviously, he, too, could read my mind.

I jumped up and half ran towards the counter, still holding the tea. And indeed, just a few minutes later, I returned to my table with all I ever needed to make some tea, plus a huge grin and a steaming cup. It smelled even better with hot water than without.

I put everything down and hugged Arn shortly. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He patted my shoulder.

I smiled. I still hurt, but different, in a more bearable way. Taking a sip of the tea I sat down. It really was good, like lemon tea with raspberry and something spicy I couldn't place. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to sit down with my best friend and see her reaction to a tea like this. She'd love it, positively adore it. I closed my eyes and held my breath; not the right thing to think of now at all.

"Why don't you have a small party tonight?" Arn's voice came through the darkness.

I opened my eyes again staring. "Could I? I mean disregarding the fact that I know about nobody, could I?"

He laughed. "Sure you can. Since your birthday is registered in the personnel files, you should have no trouble organising a place and some snacks. Music, if you want or some entertainment."

Well, if that was not the damnest thing. I almost forgot to drink my tea. But then, it was kinda obvious when you thought about it. You couldn't expect people to skip their birthdays just because they were working, and effective as the Empire tended to be, there were probably a million regulations around what could and could not be done. Wow. I felt stupid.

"You make some calls and organise something," Arn said and stood up smiling. "It'll be okay if you come to practice a bit later."

I could have glomped him to death right there and then. I went to my quarters to put the new treasure away. The shelf with my personal belongings looked sad. There was my blue shirt, the stone and the twig and that was it. When I had always been so possession happy. I had kept about everything, and loved to browse through my old stuff occasionally ad go all sentimental. Seemed like that was over for now.

I sat down to make some calls. It was actually easy to get some kind of booth for the evening and a variety of snacks and drinks. I ordered 'whatever goes best' since none of the names meant anything to me. And nachos topped with jalapenos and cheese meant nothing to the man at the other end of the comm. Social context, where art thou?

Then I called Jes and Sey which took longer than expected since I didn't have the comm numbers. After half an hour of confused communication I had everything settled, and left them messages since they seemed to be in training or on a mission or simply lost in space. That left only Dave. I stared at the dark monitor for a long moment, but it didn't help. There was only me around to do anything.

Dave even answered. His face betrayed nothing and I felt the sudden urge to just cut the connection again and behave like a teenager. "Hi," I said instead.

He nodded an acknowledgment, but that was all. Men and communication, this was really the worst case scenario.

"I, today is my birthday," I began, "and I will have a tiny party. So I wondered -" Ah, doing the social game again. It was difficult to get rid off, but the effect on a stormie was uncertain, though probably not positive. I started again, "I will have a small party and I would be very happy if you would come." There, I had said it.

He nodded again, then the monitor went black again. Highly effective communication, but it did feel a tad offensive. I wondered if talking without all the unnecessary decorum was actually a good thing. It felt bad.

Arn had brought the two small sticks for training purposes and I suddenly liked having birthday a lot. I was a bit rusted on some of the forms already, but other than that, it was fun. I got a lot of bruises in a free-style sparring match, but for the first time I had the feeling Arn actually had to fight back. I was getting places. Even if it was not certain it would be places I'd wanted to be.

Seros took the chance of the day, too. There was a long line of imaginary people offering their felicitations, all I had to do was accept them gracefully and with the right words, titles and amount of bowing or curtseying. Too bad none of the imaginary dignitaries had remembered to bring me a gift. Then I held a grateful speech and thanked everybody for coming and their generous gifts, which I was still kinda missing.

After some more lightsaber practice and writing reports for C'baoth I stood in my quarter again wondering whether to wear my blue shirt or not. On the one hand it was the only thing I really had from home, very special and beyond priceless. But then, it was also the one thing that didn't belong here, the odd one out. In the end I decided to blend in, be one of them, if that was ever possible. Just for today, let me fool myself.

The booth turned out big enough to accommodate multiple times the people I knew. It opened to a hall at one side and more booths like it did just the same. In some of them, other groups already sat, subdued music was playing in the background and for all the Imperial grey surrounding me, it felt like a happy place.

I had a little time to try out the snacks before Jes and Sey appeared. After hugging me shortly and wishing me a happy birthday, Sey produced a bottle. "Three's finest, just for you."

I thanked him again, but it was clear that the bottle would not survive the night. I poured drinks and just when we wanted to have the first sip, Toris made a disapproving noise behind me. He scolded me for not bringing out a toast for the Empire and then congratulated. I poured him a drink, too.

"Toast the Empire," I said raising my glass again. Sey snorted but Toris shook his head. Okay. "Close your eyes and think of the Empire?" I tried again. Sey was obviously and loudly happy with the choice but Toris rolled his eyes. No more making fun. I sighed. "To the Empire. Peace and long life!"

Finally Toris was happy. Good for him. My inner nerd sniggered, but had to stop when the moonshine hit him. And that was just the beginning. It was good that Jes and Sey were there, because they were their own party. When Arn joined us bit later, I was already pretty much lost on the stories the two told. But since they did it so well, I had loads to laugh anyway.

As time passed, some of the snacks went out, but there was a counter where you could get more. Same for the drinks. Jes brought me something fizzy and sweet, and poured a liberal amount of moonshine into it. Imperial cocktail; fun. I could even add something by talking about the _Liberty_, though I had to be careful with the details. Arn watched me warily, but it seemed I kept to the unseen borders.

Then Sey suddenly claimed it was not a real party without dancing and when did they have the chance to get their hands on a woman anyway? I brought up the lack of dances the steps of which would be known to all of us.

"Bah, you just show me." Sey dragged me out of the booth. "Keep it easy, right?"

The only easy thing I could think of was the Vienna Waltz. Six steps all in all, it wouldn't get much easier. Sey caught on the concept immediately, and from the corner of my eye I saw Jes talking to somebody at the counter. Music blared to life, and to my amazement actually something in three-four time. Sey hustled me over the floor as if there was no tomorrow and the combination of alcohol with wild turning could not lead to complications at all.

Halfway down the way to nausea, Jes suddenly appeared behind Sey and cut in. "Fun for everyone," he claimed, grinning. "And before she throws up."

The music man had mercy on me and the song merged with something slower. I could finally recognise my surroundings again, but the music and movement made me giddy. I grinned broadly at Arn when he cut in and he shook his head, but smiled leniently. I wondered how many birthdays he had had to celebrate like this. Then I wondered if that was such a bad thing.

To my amazement, Toris cut in, too. He established his lead with a firm grip and displayed a practiced ease that surprised me.

"Not doing this for the first time, are you?" I asked curiously.

"Certainly not." He guided me through several fast turns before slowing down again. "Classic Core Waltz, a bit old fashioned, but I always liked it."

I chuckled and was tempted to rest my head on his shoulder. He was a good lead.

All of a sudden, Toris took a step away from me, handing me over to - Dave. Who I hadn't even seen coming. A hug grin threatened to split my head from one ear to the other. "Thanks for coming," I got out.

"Seems you're running out of dance partners," he replied. "Having to content yourself with a seasoned veteran like Sergeant Toris."

I laughed. "He's much more my age range than the others," I said laughing softly. "I'm an old woman."

"How old?"

"Uh-oh, tell me yours, I'll tell you mine." I winked impishly at him. "Thirty-one."

"Eighteen," he replied, looking no less mischievous than I felt.

I had to laugh. "Perfect, where I come from, that makes you off age."

There was a low chuckle coming from him. A sound I could definitely get used to. Then the music ended.

Dave looked over to my booth and nodded towards the group. Then he looked at me again. "I must be off."

"Thanks for coming."

He nodded again and was gone. I kept standing on the dance floor like an idiot. Finally I returned to the booth. Jizz began to play in the background and another booth emptied itself to the dance floor. But that only registered half in my head. The other half was still dancing with Dave. Who would have expected that?

"Hobnobbing with the 501st," Sey teased. "Maybe we should tell you some of the less savoury of their exploits?"

I shook my head, still not quite back and sat down. "I'm afraid I know enough about those."

"And tells _us_, we're to young," Jes chimed in. "You should get your head looked into."

"I think I have a very good medic right here," I said taking the bottle and pouring me another drink.

"I need some therapy, too," Sey said, holding his glass in my direction. I filled it again dutifully. "To medic, shrinks and all that, may it help." He emptied it in one swallow and I followed suit.

The evening got very late. Arn left first, putting the blame on duties waiting for him early the next morning. Or later that day, as he put it. The rest of us decided to leave some time later, but on our way out, Jes and Sey recognised some friends and excused themselves to the next party. I wished them luck and strong heads for the next morning. But they were young, I had been that young once and partying like that had worked for me, too.

That left me alone with Toris walking towards the nearest turbo lift.

"I hope you know what you are doing," he said suddenly.

"I'm afraid I don't have a clue," I replied confused, "no matter what you are referring to."

He gave me a stern glance and his lips compressed to a tight line. "Dave," he finally said. "He likes you." With that he turned and left.

I stood thunderstruck. Then I walked to my quarter like a robot. I wished, I hadn't drunk so much, though I felt scarily sober suddenly. Dave liked me; figure that. Whatever I had thought that was and who we were and how we related to each other and, and - and suddenly I was not sure anymore at all who we were. The whole relationship stood on shaky legs suddenly, so shaky that I didn't dare move. _He likes me_, the thought wouldn't leave my head. _He likes me_. I dropped into bed and tried not to think about it anymore. But I couldn't stop, because honestly, how many people had ever brought him souvenirs, if only cake? On how many birthday parties has he been, how many of those of women. And how many women had he ever known anyway?

My eyes burned so bad that I felt I could stare a hole though my ceiling right through the rest of the ship and into space. Had he, did he? And what had I done? I had not thought about it. Not at all. I banged my head softly against the bulkhead. Whatever being here did for me, helping me think more was not part of it.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	55. 055

Fifty-Five

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!

Move it!!

.

He likes me. The thought was still burning bright courses through my mind in the morning.

But I needed Thrawn's cooperation and I was determined to do anything - _anything_ - to get it. The monster lurked in the depths of my head and wouldn't go away. _Always in motion the future is_, I had to believe that. There was certainly another way, I just had to find it. Had to.

I didn't know how to face Dave again. My head tried to come up with feasible approaches, but my thoughts were in chaos. I didn't even know what I wanted. I didn't dare to consider wanting the obvious. But the future was always in motion, there were certainly other ways, there had to be. After all, he was Thrawn, and he'd think of something else that would work. I just didn't have the information to do that, that was all.

As usual, the Grand Admiral seemed to be reading my mind. A meeting popped up in my schedule after training with Arn. I just hoped it didn't include dead Mandos somewhere along the way. Though it was a bit early for that; I wasn't back many days yet.

_What do you want?_ I asked myself staring at my breakfast. But the answers popping up didn't add up. I would have to be cloned once at least and the galaxy would have to be a happy place like the WNU; sans mole game. I couldn't change myself enough to achieve most the plans, anyway. If I was a shape-shifter and genius - maybe if somebody crossed Thrawn with a Gurlanin, now that would be a really dangerous weapon.

Trotting towards the gym, I wondered how everything could be so wrong, when actually things were right for a change. Maybe That was it and I was juts not used to things going well. And there was still the ambush on Byss waiting, loads of potential for Murphy there. I shouldn't worry so much. If only I could stop.

"After effects of the party?" Arn asked pointing at my down-turned mouth.

I nodded. "Unexpected, but yeah."

"Did something go wrong after I left?" he sounded concerned.

Again I shook my head. "Everything was perfect, really perfect. Shouldn't bother me like that, should it?"

"Too bad you don't want to talk about it, huh?" Reading my mind; it seemed to be an official Imperial hobby by now.

"I can't," I sighed. "It's all too complicated right now, and I didn't even start. If only I had known…"

"I'm sure things will clear up," Arn tried to comfort me. "The Grand Admiral will make sure of that."

I didn't dare tell him that that was just what I feared. "Yeah, really depends on him this time. Amazing."

"That sounds as if your trust in his ability to solve the upcoming problems is wavering?" There were a lot more questions under that that I cared for.

"Not at all, I am just beginning to doubt, I'll like his solutions." I shrugged. "I do what I can, but I still don't like it."

"Try harder," Arn suggested, getting ready to attack.

I raised my saber and didn't answer. There was not much left I could think off for trying. As things stood, I was running out of ideas already. I could only hope Thrawn had something up his sleeve.

He did, but not the way I had expected. I was only able to grab a sandwich on my way to the Grand Admiral, so I hoped the meeting would be a short one, and I got some time for a real lunch before Seros got me. I swallowed hastily before entering; even I realised that munching in front of you most superior officer was bad manners.

"The continued failures of the Noghri to capture Organa Solo necessitate my presence at their home planet," the Grand Admiral informed me.

Wonderful, I always wanted to see Honoghr. I nodded. But what had that to do with me? Was he scared of the grey cuddlies already?

"In the meantime you will make yourself useful by distracting C'baoth. He is very pleased to be finally allowed to take you along." Somehow I got the feeling Thrawn was rather pleased with the idea, too. I didn't get it.

"Your confusion doesn't matter," he continued. "I am certain you will perform your tasks to my complete satisfaction." There was the flicker in his eyes.

"As you wish," I replied, not knowing what else to say. He was playing his head games again and I didn't feel the urge to play along. My head was already otherwise committed. "Anything special I should look out for?"

He shook his head. "Only you natural talents this time, and do try to make thinking one of them."

I nodded, not sure I liked the undertones in his voice. Chiding was okay, I got that here all the time but -

"A bag has already been packed for you and it waiting in the hangar bay." Thrawn's voice stopped my train of thought. He glanced on the chrono. "You even have the time to collect your personal belongings."

"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!" I jumped up.

"And do try to remember the plans you had for the time after this campaign before you came here," there was a threat in his voice I didn't quite understand. "Think about them before you do something - stupid. Dismissed."

I snapped into a last salute and left. Whatever was he talking about now? But I could still map up the perfect political situation on board of the ship. There were other things I had to do first. I called Arn, but he already knew. He seemed sad, but tried to reassure me anyway. I felt the wish to comfort him, but there wasn't even a [face_hugs] I could have used on the pad.

Then I commed Dave, but there was no answer. So I tried the node of the 501st instead. A familiar face answered.

"Fi! -ve-six-five," I almost stumbled over my tongue adding the rest of his numbers in a hurry. "I'm glad to see you, I cannot reach Dave."

"He is on a mission," Fi said, his tone betraying no emotion.

"Oh," I said. "I just wanted to tell him that I'll be leaving with master C'baoth and I don't know when I'll be back, but I'll comm him when I'm back." I took a deep breath. "Can you tell him that?"

Fi nodded. "I will tell him if he returns."

"No!" I shouted. "No," I then repeated more calmly, "you'll tell him _when_ he returns."

Fi's lip quirked shortly, but he just nodded.

"Thank you."

He broke the connection. I really had to get used to their complete lack of verbiage. Shaking my head I set off towards the hangars.

A nondescript freighter was already waiting, and as promised, a bag with clothes stood next to the lowered ramp. Personal belongings, really. As if I would take them anyplace and endanger them like that. No way. They were safe aboard the _Chimera_, and there they would stay. Safe.

"Ah, there you are, my Padawan." C'baoth's hand descended on my shoulder. "Finally, the Grand Admiral is seeing sense. He can be rather difficult to manipulate."

"Yes Master," I agreed. "But nobody can resist your power."

"No, of course not." He steered me into the ship. "It is a lesson you will have to learn for yourself, Mellanna. Nothing is impossible for those allied with the Force."

"Then I shall set me an impossible task and achieve it," I said, straining to keep the sarcasm from my tone.

"That's the spirit," he clapped me on the back as the ram rose behind us. "I shall make good use of the time on our journey."

"Yes, Master." Just what I needed. I hoped Thrawn had made sure the trip wouldn't take a week or such. There would be only one of us reaching Jomark alive in that case, and the chances that it was me, were slim. "

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	56. 056

Fifty-Six

Did you ever have to spend two days cooped up with somebody you feared and disliked, with no chance to avoid him? And on top of that him being your Master and able to read your moods and even thoughts, and you meaning to be a happy padawan? I would say it's hell, but it wasn't. It was the best lesson at 'love your enemies' I can think of, or at least efficiently teaching how to fool yourself. I was obviously very good at it.

I paid a short visit to my tiny quarters, just big enough to put a bunk into it and allow me to squeeze past it into a fresher in which I could barely turn around. But it was all mine, so I was not about to complain. Better than having to share, I was really attached to my privacy. The tour of the ship was short. There was not much to be seen besides the cockpit, a living area and a galley.

I hoped I wouldn't have to cook. I knew nothing about the products of the GFFA and throwing things together you didn't even know the name of didn't sound like a tasty idea to me. Fortunately, nobody asked me to cook. The pilot and co-pilot seemed aware of C'baoth's expectation that they serve us in any way imaginable. That included cooking, tidying and other mean tasks that I was forbidden to help with. Somehow, I didn't think this attitude would last once we reached Jomark. The novels had never mentioned any personal servants of the Jedi Master, I hoped that was just an oversight. Or maybe it had just been me, much too unimportant to ever be mentioned.

Sounded like me alright. But as long as we were cooped up on that ship I really had other problems. For one, I had to like and respect C'baoth. Not an easy task when you really try to keep it up for two days in a row. All the time. Even when you sleep. I hope he didn't sense any of my nightmares, but then, I am not sure what a Jedi Master would make from being lost in the German rail system and the recurring pictures of my old work place. No Christopher Walken, though. I was not sure that was an improvement.

I spent the days with intense meditation. It made my arms and legs ache from sitting too long in one position, but all C'baoth said was that I should rise above my bodily presence, transcend the flesh and ignore it. The last option was the only one I considered feasible. So I ignored my pains as well as I could. To improve the state of my strained muscles, I even went so far as to turn one of the Arnis forms into a badly flowing kind of Tai Chi. It was the closest I got to massaging my own back.

I also got to study loads of charts of the galaxy, marking all interesting resources one might ever need to rule. Ore, food, work force, it was all there and all I needed to do was make sure the right amounts of each were at the right place at the right time. It was a bit like an advanced version of 'Siedler von Catan'. Logically consistent, I lost all the time.

C'baoth was unimpressed. He still firmly believed I was a Force user with some kind of blockade, and he did work hard to remove it. He even admitted that it was unfortunate he had not become a Jedi Healer at one point. It would have been a lot easier then. I agreed and sighed, while C'baoth returned to following the Force swirls surrounding me, trying to find their patterns source.

Watching his hands move inches from my body, I came to the conclusion that the Force flowed around me like a river around a rather obstinate rock. It curled, and pushed and tried to dislodge me somehow, while on the other hand following its course towards an aim I couldn't see. I wondered how long it would take to dislodge me and throw me back where I belonged.

Jomark was incredible. If I had ever seen anything like it before it had been on pictures and I had forgotten them long ago. A lake like a plate of glittering blue glass lay below us and in its middle a huge rock protruded from the surface. On all but one side, forests grew up to the water, leaving but a slim shoreline that seemed to be white with sand. On the only free side of the lake stood a small village and perched on the sheer cliff rising up beneath it was a mansion.

The ship set down on a clearing near the village and when I stepped down the ramp, following C'baoth, we found a carriage waiting for us already. It was actually a real carriage with a speeder in front of it to pull. All in all, it was easily the most exotic mix of Middle Ages and Sci Fi I had ever seen. We sat down and the climb up the cliff began.

The view down from the mansion was breathtaking. Though the house was extremely alien, I couldn't shake the feeling of visiting a British country house. A low fence surrounded the mansion and its gardens. If it had not been C'baoth's home, I would really have loved it. As things were, I decided to just like it.

"It's beautiful," I said.

"Let your home be a mirror of your self," C'baoth lectured. "Daring, bold and imbued with natural grace; domineering of its own right."

I nodded, looking down at the village. From up here the houses looked like tiny toys, and I knew that this was also how C'baoth viewed them. Then I followed him into the mansion. It was still very alien inside, but since the concept of rooms and doors seemed to work nevertheless, it was okay. I got a very small chamber right next to C'baoth's room. Fitting for the view he had of a Master/Padawan relationship that seemed to include serving on the padawan's side. I had no objections. Anything I could do in this screwed apprenticeship, I would, if only in the hope to distract from all the things I could never hope to achieve.

My bag held only standardised clothing, jumpsuits, spare boots, a brush, soap, that kind of stuff. At the very bottom I found a chrono, still set to show the time on the Chimera. Sadly I patted it before putting it away in a drawer. And then, there was my pad. I opened it and found a list of tasks blinking to life. Good old Seros, he really took my education seriously. I skimmed over the list, wondering if I would have any time at all to consider the current bacta situation in the Mid Rim and the political power that might be gained from it.

All I knew about bacta was, that there was not enough and somebody somewhere in the Rebellion was somehow connected to one of the main production places. That would be no help at all. I typed up a short, meaningless message to Arn and tried to send it. As expected it didn't work. There was probably no way to relay anything into space from here, or my pad was just not strong enough to send anything. Of course, there were several less nice possibilities, but I didn't want to think of them. Shrugging I deleted the message.

I wanted back home. Though 'home' now meant the Chimera. I sighed. What if I could really go home, like _home_ home? The obvious answer was that, of course, I would, no question. Home! My parents, my boyfriend, my sister and – well _everything_! But then, I didn't really want to think about it, because so much here would be left in limbo. Things I had begun and things that would not work out and then there was always Dave and Arn.

It was much too complicated already. I could just hope to never get into the situation in which I would have to _chose_. I was not a decision maker. After all this, I was still a follower. Somehow I doubted that would ever change.

On the positive side, this exact characteristic made me get along with C'baoth well. He led, and I followed. He ordered and I jumped. That was something I was good at, and as long as that was all he demanded, I would be a very happy padawan indeed. I followed him into the village and watched him dealing out justice, or at least his version of it. I ran errands and was generally around whenever, just in case he might need me.

On top of that, I kept up my sports program as well as I could. C'baoth sometimes deigned to watch and give helpful orders how to improve my style. It was obviously below his dignity to swing a lightsaber anymore. What did I expect, he used Force lightning if he needed force. But I never questioned him at all, and he found few things to berate me for. Subversion and obedience seemed to work wonder on his shifting moods. And I was selfish enough to buy me some peace and quite by being extra attentive to him.

I stood before the mansion looking up to the stars and wishing to be home, wherever that might be. It was not here, that much I knew, this was more like studying abroad. Only without being able to send letters home. _You don't have a mom, Fi. _And I couldn't send letters there, either.

"I will teach you to lead, and you will learn to follow," C'baoth told me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I nodded. "Yes Master." There was nothing else to say. Right here, right now he was my Master. And thus we would now meditate on the concrete date of Luke's impending arrival that I had foreseen. Small favours and big sacrifices, being a Jedi didn't sit well with me at all. I followed C'baoth back inside.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	57. 057

Fifty-Seven

In the long run, Jomark was mostly boring - and enlightening. I was pretty much the personal servant of C'baoth and the bits of wisdom he imparted on me were few and far between. It was obvious that he didn't consider me a fully-fledged padawan after all. As long as Luke was out there waiting to be trapped and turned, I was just a small distraction in the grand scheme of things. It was at the same time disappointing and relieving.

I spent a lot of time tagging along, watching and learning. Probably not quite the lessons C'baoth had in mind, but lessons nevertheless. One was to be happy no matter what. I was a lucky person to be gifted with a Master like him, wise and patient, and such a devoted teacher. Actually, it's true, if you tell yourself long enough, you believe it. Mostly. I also learnt to cook using stuff from the GFFA and that was really something I liked. I always preferred to bake, but hey, I would learn that another day.

But the real lesson, and one I suspected Thrawn had been very keen on teaching me was obedience. Unquestioning obedience to orders, just following, no thinking. That it took a mad dark Jedi Master to teach me that was telling something about me, but I was much too occupied being happy about my life to think about it.

Not a single time did C'boath ask my opinion when administering justice, and I was certainly not told to try for myself. Whatever his plan was, I was not placed in a deciding position. Maybe I was just overall to yielding. Good luck for me I guessed. Though it meant to jump whenever he called, be it the middle of the night and always smile. Not that C'baoth couldn't tell through the Force my service was wanted; he had his ways and they were all unpleasant.

I sat on my bunk staring at my pad. I had stopped trying to send short notes to Arn or even my homework to Seros. Still, somebody had been nice enough to copy my wake-up calls to it, and sometimes I just played them when I felt home sick. Home sick for a several million ton hunk of durasteel. A place that sported neither trees or blue skies, no stones, no dirt, no wind, no birds - no C'baoth.

I pressed a button and some cheesy Core Waltz played softly. I had no idea how that had come to be on my pad. I didn't even know if it was on of those of my birthday. Staring at my hands, I wondered what I was doing here. I mean really doing. Not even C'baoth considered me to be a real Jedi anymore and what was the best that could come of this? If all went wrong, I would run headfirst into Luke even, and what then?

The music stopped and I sat staring in silence. What could I do here, that nobody else could, no Imperial in Thrawn's huge Empire, no mercenary, no bought help? It certainly was not to detain C'baoth. He did as he liked, I was not even a big distraction. And for all my abilities to observe, Thrawn might just as well have installed a spy cam here. At least those remembered conversations verbatim.

"It is good to see you meditating," C'baoth's voice broke into my thoughts. "There is some business I have to attend to now. You will keep yourself out of the way."

"Yes Master," I nodded. "I am invisible."

"Not quite," a dark humour swung in his voice. "But close enough."

I kept staring at my hands and listened to his retreating footsteps. Meditating, okay. If that was what he wanted. I could be meditating all day. Or might, if that whining sound would stop. I looked up but there was of course nothing to be seen but my small room. The noise became louder and louder, filling the air and vibrating in my bones. I knew that sounds, though I couldn't place it right then. It was descending right on the house, so should I run? Even if C'baoth had told me to stay put? Was it a test?

Suddenly the whining stopped and was followed by a hiss, and a series of soft beeps. I would have known those anywhere! R2!

.

.

.

The stunned silence was loth to leave my head and make space for proper thinking again. Luke was here. Luke like Luke Skywalker, son of Darth Vader, Last of the Jedi, First of the New Order, Future Grand Master. Here. On Jomark. Now. With me.

Okay, the latter was a bit of a stretch, but it _was_ the same planet. I would have to arrange a meeting, somehow and I would have to - I stopped myself. There I had my answer, hidden in plain sight and I fell for it every single time. But if I found the Grand Admiral messing with that one, I'd see to it personally, that his future would be an annoying one. _Don't mess with me, I know where you live._ And also where you family lives - and that was the point.

I know that you know that I know - and what about my old plans. I was an open book, but the story I told was not one I wanted any longer. Too bad the Grand Admiral did not care. I just wished I read all of this wrong. But then, how good had I ever been at predicting the future. I chuckled sadly.

A sudden beep from my pad startled me, and when I looked down a new message blinked on the display. I stared unbelieving, but there was no mistaking. I opened it.

_c__lone presence in paradise confirmed. planning a party._

Oookay. That was probably from Jusik. Or one of his - friends. They were fast, alright. I hoped they wouldn't do anything rash because they were just no match for Palps, especially a Palps that was stark raving mad and cloned all over. I stared at the screen and wished I could connect to Jusik somehow. Even if I had to become a frigging Jedi. I needed to get a message out,. One that made about as much sense as the one I got and then, and then and then…

With a soft ping a reply window opened. Without thinking I typed _'blue boy plans a party too. why not have a blast together?_' That should do. I hoped. Thinking frantically I wondered if there was a better was to say that, more subtle or maybe more obvious. I was not into all the agent and spy business. I preferred to do things out in the open.

Suddenly the message blinked and was gone. My pad was off and it might just have never happened. I turned it on again, but nowhere did it show any actions in the messaging sector. With a sigh, I shut it down again and stood up. By now, Luke and C'baoth should be off to the village and I had always wanted to see an X-Wing. And if I remembered this correctly, there was one very unhappy droid sulking in the fighter.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	58. 058

Fifty-Eight

Slowly, I approached the X-Wing. It was gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as a TIE Interceptor, but still. From down here, it didn't look as sleek as I thought it would. It was probably the way it was towering over me.

"Hello, there," I called up when I was at arms length. "I am Mel, I wanted to ask if it was okay if I touched the ship?" There was no answer. Either R2 was busy or lying low. I shrugged. "You just speak up, when you object, okay?"

Carefully I reached up and touched the nose of the ship. It was rough. It always looked very smooth, but actually, it was not. I let my hand run along the nose of the X-Wing towards the cockpit, when R2 erupted into a sudden flurry of beeps.

I took my hand away. "Okay, okay, not going there." Whatever there might be. Considering my prowess with ships, R2 was probably just saving our lives. "Can we talk?" I called up. "Luke's gone to the village with C'baoth they'll be some time."

There was no answer. "I'll take that as a yes." Even though it did feel silly to stand beside Luke's x-Wing and shout stuff up at R2. "See, C'baoth told me to stay out of the way. I'm not quite sure if he means all the time, but knowing him, he might as well. And then I don't get a chance to talk to Luke at all. And I think that's all I'm here for."

There was a low whistle. Somehow it sounded questioning. "Well, C'baoth thinks I'm a Jedi," I said. "But if I am, then so are you. Though right now, it would be nice because I might use to Force to understand you better. So sorry if I don't get everything." I scratched my head. "Anyway, now that Luke's here, I don't think C'baoth will want me around much."

Another whistle, this time it sounded worried.

"No, Luke is not in danger. He's a smart one and will know what to do. He always does." I sighed. If only that was true for me, too. "C'baoth is old and not very stable, he's no match for Luke."

There was a series of bleeps, beeps, and chirping I could not really make any sense of. "Sorry, I don't get a thing. Would it help if I got my pad? Can you send like messages to it?"

Indignant chirping.

"Okay, bad idea. Can I somehow come up there? I like to see the people I talk to." I glanced at the ship. "Only if there's a safe way up, that is. I am amazingly bad with ships, R2."

I couldn't quite follow the answer but I think there was indignation of me calling him by the short designation, some considering if I was safe to be let on the ship and many, many questions. If only I understood but one of them.

"Let's take this one at a time. Is there--" I was interrupted by a ladder dropping beside me. "Oh, wow, thanks." I climbed up carefully and sat down on the ship. It was strangely warm, probably from going through the atmosphere. I made sure that I could not reach R2, maybe that would make him feel safer.

"Hi." I couldn't help but grin at the small droid. "You look good. I mean, a bit used but compared to what you went through, it's nothing really. Wow. I'm sure Luke takes very good care of you."

The affirmative whistle was followed by something questioning and accusing.

"You mean, why I say Luke? Habit I guess. And Master Skywalker is so long." R2 trilled something. "Oh, not Master yet. Okay, I'll keep that in mind. And one thing, could you keep an eye on the street. I don't think C'baoth would be very happy if he finds me here."

R2 chirped an affirmative and added another question. "No he's not a kind old man," I sighed. "Not like Ben at all."

There came another string of questions.

"Well, maybe I should start with how I know what I know and how come I'm here and why," I suggested. "I'll make it short, too." And I did try. Not that there wasn't much I couldn't leave out. Most of the stuff happening on the Chimera had nothing to do with this, but even the little bits I had to mention did not make R2 happy.

"Well, yes," I had to admit. "By definition I am an Imperial." I shrugged. "You have to start somewhere. And it's not as if I was here to help capturing Luke or anything."

There came a doubtful twitter.

"Oh, come on R2-D2," I chided. "What can I do? I can't use the Force and I am a bad fighter. Besides I am not here to help C'baoth. I'm here to distract him, if anything." I sighed. "I don't think I'm here because of him at all."

The small droid asked another question.

"I am not quite sure, oh blast it, I think I know why I am here and I don't like it. And I can't help it. I'm the only one Thrawn can send to credibly propagate the idea of peace and cooperation. I believe it. Don't ask me if he does."

R2 twittered mournfully.

"With you there," I agreed. "If it's all a big hoax, I am busted, and so is half the galaxy. But I can't just give up, you know. I mean if it did work - " I sighed. "Peace would be so great, you know. Get preliminary borders, make everything stable and after trade and travel are achieved, let the systems choose where they want to belong. Not that it would work, would it?"

He chirped sadly.

"Yeah." We sat in silence for a while. "It's a good dream, though," I decided. "And if -"

R2 interrupted me excitedly.

"They're coming back? Oh dear. I better get my sorry butt back inside than. Thanks for the talk Artoo, I'll be back. I hope." I climbed to the ground as fast as I could and ran into the mansion. There I grabbed my saber, made my way into the backyard and began to practice some forms. When I heard the front door, I shut down the saber hastily and retreated quickly into my room, hoping that this would explain my feelings of guilt well enough for C'baoth.

There I sat, staring at my hands and trying to figure out, whether campaigning for a united galaxy was a good or a bad idea. It all depended on the Grand Admiral, his plans. I would have to shape them a bit, strong-arm him, if I could. The one thing he couldn't get on his own - I didn't feel like doing it, but for the sake of the galaxy?

_Mellanna!_ C'baoth's thought cut through mine. Whatever had happened in the village, it had not left him a happy Jedi. And whose job was it to amend that? I went to see what he wanted, prepared to do some first class grovelling. I had become amazingly good at it lately.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

* * *

Author's Note: **On Typos**

Yes, they are there. They are _everywhere_. So what?  
I'm doing this for fun. If you want perfection, go buy a book. People get paid for perfection there. I am not.  
Most updates are cobbled together in a few hours each Friday to keep within the schedule. They get beta-read exactly once by me two weeks later before they go up here. Everything I don't catch: bad luck.  
If the typos really, _really_ bother you so bad, write me a pm. Tell me in which chapter, where and which word. I might just amend it. If that is too much work, well, can't be that bad then, can it?

Thanks for reading.  
Just ignore the rambling author.


	59. 059

Fifty-Nine

When C'baoth had said invisible, he had obviously meant it. There was no chance of getting my hands on Luke, metaphorically speaking. Not that I felt any urge to do that literally, not only would he have Mara one day, but surprisingly enough, I was pretty much in a relationship myself. Who would have thought? I don't know what C'baoth had told him who was sneaking around in the house. I mean, even if I was not Force-sensitive, I did appear in the Force.

C'baoth had probably waved that aside calling me the house keeper. What else was I doing right now anyway? And since Luke was able to realise that I was no Jedi at all, he most likely did believe that. So I spent my days avoiding the only person on this dirt ball I actually wanted to see. Well, almost the only. I did go and visit Artoo when I could. He was less than happy to be caged in the X-Wing but C'baoth was adamant that the atromech stay there. His opinion of droids was obviously even lower than that of people.

After the first few visits, I didn't feel strange anymore, sitting on the X-Wing and socialising with a bucket full of wires. It beat not speaking to anybody by miles, and I could feed him a lot of the info I actually wanted Luke to have. Not that R2 trusted me further than he could throw me, me being an Imperial and all that. Not that I could blame him. The only reason I was wearing brown was C'baoth's insistence. He would not have a disciple in an Imperial jumpsuit and that was that. Somehow I missed it.

Looking at it more closely, C'baoth seemed to be taking a lot from me. Not only my clothes, I could live with that, but most of my freedom, my freedom of thought even. I laid my hand on my neck. Freedom was not a concept the dark Jedi seemed to understand.

"You will wear the robes proper for a padawan or you wear nothing," C'baoth's voice rang in my ears.

Given such a choice, I agreed, of course. The weather on Jomark did not warrant skimpy dressing habits. Even in my Imperial clothes I was cold. Nodding my head, I hoped the outfit would include a nice, warm cloak.

Before I got a cloak, I got to sit for the local tailor, who nervously took my measures under the glare of C'baoth. He noted the numbers on a pad that looked old even to my untrained eyes. I should have pitied him for having to bear C'boath's attention, but it felt so good to have it redirected, if only for a moment.

"What is this?"

If the tailor hadn't been fumbling around my feet, I would have jumped at the harsh tone of C'baoth's voice. Additionally, his hand bore down on my neck, pushing up the hair.

"A tattoo?" I volunteered.

"Do you have it for reasons of belief, tradition or inheritance?" His voice was cold.

"Um, no?"

"Then you shall not need it!" He placed his hand over my tattoo and it hurt. Not like having it made, that was okay, but it hurt like fire trying to burn through my skin, liquid fire; very, very determined liquid fire. I concentrated hard on not breaking into tears. At my feet the tailor fidgeted, not daring to continue,

Then it was over. Just like that, leaving just a dull throb in my neck. I didn't dare move.

"Bring me a cloth," C'baoth demanded. And when he wiped a rather black liquid off his hand I realised what had happened. Still, I couldn't defy him or even get mad or anything. Later, with a lot of bending and twisting I could confirm that it had gone. Just like that, leaving nothing but sore skin behind. Touching it had not hurt much, but it hadn't brought it back, either. And I didn't even get time to mourn or be sad.

R2 twittered something at me, and I took my hand off my neck again. "Nothing to do with you," I assured him. "Just bad memories." I tried to smile. "I wish there were not so frigging much of those since - well, you know."

There was an understanding beep, and then what was probably an attempt to show how being in the Empire guaranteed many bad memories. Or just recounting some of his own. I really didn't know.

It turned out to be neither, anyway. Suddenly the cockpit hatch opened and R2 warbled urgently.

"You want me o get in?" I asked incredulous? "But-"

He left no other option. If C'baoth saw me now, I was so fried, but whatever it was Artoo wanted to do, he wanted me along for the ride. Awkwardly I climbed into the cockpit. It was very different from my TIEs, and, from my point of view, a lot less comfortable. The hatch sealed and R2 lifted off.

I tired hard to remember why and when that happened in the book, but, truth be told, my recollection of how Luke got away from Jomark in the end was sketchy. The fighter moved over the edge and slowly lowered along the cliff with the lights on. And suddenly I saw another ship parked right in the mountainside. And a young woman sitting on it, She raised her blaster and took out one of the lights.

R2 warbled something and my mind tried to catch up with the book. Who would visit Luke here, and why? The woman mentioned something about having been on Myrkr, not that it improved Atroo's mood any, from the tone of his answer. Okay, Myrkr, Karrde - Mara! Um, this was Mara Jade trying to get Luke because, um, somebody was captured by Thrawn, probably Karrde? Then it would be a prerogative for me to stay here until he was freed again. The idea of me barraging right into his break-out -

"You must be joking!" Mara objected. R2 had manoeuvred a landing skid towards her. I sniggered, though I knew that I would have fallen off. But she managed, and she had a huge hulking frame strapped to her back, probably an Ysalamir. It would have been more than difficult for her to get into the cockpit with that, but as it seemed, Artoo had taken a precaution against that.

"Whatever you need," I mumbled softly, gazing at the controls. With that kind of disaster arranged before me, I would not be going anywhere.

When we got to the mansion again, C'baoth was already waiting at the fence. I tried to duck under the canopy, but there was not much space. All I could do was hope that the light was bright enough to conceal my presence. Fortunately, Mara lost no time to talk business. She slid off the skid and approached the dark Jedi. Still, from up where I sat, I could see the faintest of hesitation when C'baoth began to talk to her. Bad memories were obviously not a privilege I held alone.

"Is there another exit?" I whispered at Artoo. I had to get out, but opening the canopy would give my presence away. Considering how I could not return to the Chimera with Luke, I'd rather stay on C'baoth's good side.

A very soft warble came back, but nothing conclusive. The lights didn't form any patterns to show a direction and there was no hissing sound to announce the opening of a hidden door. I swore under my breath. If I didn't get out before Mara convinced Luke to follow her, I was dead. There might be barely enough space for two people in here, but number three would have to hitch a ride with R2. I was sure, I wouldn't survive long in the vacuum of space.

The Luke appeared. For a second it felt as if he looked at me off all people but I closed my eyes and pretended not to be there. There were things more important right now, the galaxy would have to wait for a while.

Suddenly, a blast came from the ship and C'baoth blacked out. Mara and Luke concentrated on the fallen Jedi Master. R2 took the chance to pop the canopy and I scrambled out as quick as I could. Almost dropping down on the far side of the fighter, I could barely hear the two talk. I stopped in my tracks. This was the one and only chance to talk to Luke. And I had to, I mean, there was so much he should know.

I gazed into his direction seeing how the two argued, I shook my head. Not my universe, not my place. "You tell him from me, please?" I said to Artoo, but I couldn't be sure he had heard me. The I went into the mansion through the back door. When I heard the X-Wing power up, I sprinted out the front door, kneeling down a C'baoth's side.

"Master," I called to him. "Master what happened?" He looked pretty dead. Only because I knew he'd be back later did I continue with my efforts. Then the Skipray thundered out of it's cave, flying low over the house and there were two people in there. Which meant that R2 had flown out on his own. Which meant that there would have been a place for me aboard the X-Wing. Provided I could have left here. Provided I didn't have to play good padawan anymore. Not that this would happen any day soon. I couldn't be on the Chimera when they broke out Karrde. I wanted to be there, of course, I did, but it was the very wrong idea.

"Master!" I cried out, and the pain was real, if not related to him. This sucked. This sucked major and there was no way out. "Wake up, Master C'baoth!"

I lifted his head, listening for his breath. It was there, very weak, but stable. All I had to do now was to get him inside. Darn. Fierfeking drat! How was I supposed to carry him? If only I could use the Force, as he believed, if only. I wiped over my eyes with the back of my hand resolutely. If the Force didn't help me, then I would have to do that. Whatever it takes.

C'baoth was very heavy. Not as heavy as he could have been, but I was not a very strong woman. I didn't dare carrying him slung over my back either, lest he wake up and complain. When I finally reached his rooms, I wished I had done it anyway. A complaining C'baoth would have been so much better that an unconscious one. My whole body hurt. But I had done it, and that was all that mattered. I had done it.

Carefully, I arranged him on his bed and put a blanket over his unmoving form. I would wait. Bracing myself, I took his hand in mine and settled down for a long night without sleep.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	60. 060

Sixty

He didn't wake up. I sat at his side for hour after hour and he didn't wake up. I think he was breathing, but it was very slow. I hoped it was a healing trance. I really did. What was I going to do with a dead Jedi,? And what would Thrawn say? When the first light of day broke through the window, I went to make some tea. It was not konot, and somehow, it tasted rather like shreddered bark, but tea was tea. I sat down again.

C'baoth still didn't look any more alive than before. I took his hand again, sipping on the tea. This was not good. "Come on, Master C'baoth," I whispered. "The galaxy still needs you."

Who else would be crazy enough to clone Luke? And without the clone, how was Mara supposed to overcome her lethal urges? And if that didn't happen - I didn't want to think of it. I squeezed his hand softly. "Please, Master. Come back."

I almost choked on a gulp of super-hot tea when C'baoth returned the pressure painfully and sat up. "I heard you call."

"Yes, Master," I replied, trying to ignore my hand that seemed to be stuck in a clamp. "Of course, I did. I was afraid-"

"You fear to much," he cut me off.

"I am sorry, Master," I apologised. "I will be more assertive in the future. Do you want a cup of tea?"

He stared at me as if I had just grown horns or something. Then he nodded abruptly and let go of my hand. "You did not pursue Skywalker?"

I got another cup and poured him some tea. "I did not. You looked dead, and -"

"You must use the Force, Padawan," he snapped. "It would have told you I was perfectly fine."

"You were lying on the ground unprotected and unconscious," I protested.

"And who would have dared do anything?" He took a sip. "That is what it means to be a Jedi."

"I understand, Master. I will work on it."

"So this is how the Grand Admiral is helping me," C'baoth said angrily. "Sending a Hand to rob my prize, but I will not have it."

I wondered if I should tell him that Mara was currently working for Karrde, not the Empire and that she had only been here because Thrawn had captured her boss. But there was no telling what C'baoht would do then. Right now, he looked ready to throw Star Destroyers into the Maw with his bare hands.

"You will need a ship, Master." It was a desperate idea, but better than staying here forever. He looked angry enough to just storm back to Thrawn and demand things.

His head whipped around, and he stared at me, as if he had completely forgotten about my presence until I spoke up. It could well have been true. There was a glimmer in his eye I didn't care for the least and he clutched his cup so hard, I was afraid it would break. Suddenly he nodded sharply. "I will not have it."

Abruptly, he stood up. "I will call a ship, Padwan," he announced. "And then the Grand Admiral will see what it means to cross a Jedi Master." He pulled himself up to his full height and strode off, obviously having forgotten me again already.

With a sigh I trotted after him. If only he wasn't so erratic. If only he didn't keep forgetting about me. Okay, most of the time I was happy when he didn't remember I was there to annoy, but right now - I had to make sure I was around in case a ship did turn up.

As it turned out there was no ship stationed on Jomark. A wise precaution on the Grand Admiral's side, but it didn't discourage C'baoth the least. "He doesn't know what we can do," he snorted. "I will call a ship and show him!"

"If it helps, I can give you my pad," I offered. "I can't make it send anything, but maybe that's just me."

He peered down at me, looking at the pad contemptuously. Then he took it and turned it over in his hands as if he saw it for the first time. "Always trying to control you, always meddling, ordering you around." He dropped it and crushed the pad under the heel of his boot. "Never let them order you around, Mellana." He almost poked me. "You are the one that has to do the ordering. Always remember that, never forget it, and don't think that blue-skinned Admiral is an exception. He's not."

I stared at the pieces of my pad, wondering what I should tell Seros about my essays. Maybe Dark Jedi Destruction counted as higher power? I hoped so. "Yes Master, I will order Thrawn around," I promised. "And hope fervently he doesn't notice," I added inaudibly under my breath.

C'baoth nodded. "We are born to lead, Padawan. It is our duty and destiny." His hand descended on my shoulder. "Thrawn might think he took my apprentice from me, but he's wrong." His eyes focussed on me, though he was surely not here at all. They burned with an eerie fire, probably madness. It scared me.

"Nobody can take Skywalker from you," I agreed softly. After all the days spent here, there had to be enough material around to clone him from. It had never occurred to me before, but it seemed so obvious once I thought of it. He hadn't even packed, there might just as well be a brush still around, a toothbrush even maybe.

C'baoth's fingers bored into my shoulder painfully. "Yes," he hissed. "That will work, Mellanna. You really have a mind like my own." With a sudden, he let go off me. "But that doesn't mean I will let the Grand Admiral get away with his meddling. He will have to answer for his actions."

He strode off again, and for a moment, I was too stunned to follow. I couldn't believe I had just given him the idea - I mean, wasn't there something in the book somewhere? Didn't he order an Imperial to do it. Whish still didn't explain where he got the materials from. I shook my head. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that it would happen.

It turned out that C'baoth had a small comm station tucked away in a nearby cave. But instead of calling the Empire, he sent messages to a nearby planet with a space ports and demanded to be collected. Judging from his strained look he was manipulating the poor man at the other end of the line into obeying. After some initial resistance, the other gave in and promised to have us off this rock within a day.

"I think Pantolomin is a good place to start looking for Thrawn," I said when he cut the connection.

"The Force will lead me where we need to go, Padawan," he replied. "If that be Pantolomin, that is where we will arrive. But now, we have to prepare our departure."

Even though he said 'we', I knew who was going to do all the packing. "Yes, Master," I said. "Everything will be ready."

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	61. 061

Sixty-One

Thrawn had not been happy at all with our arrival. And it had all started so well. The ship that was sent to collect us was a tiny YT model. C'boath had no scruples exiling the captain on Jomark, and let me pilot. If I had ever doubted his insanity, this would certainly have cured me. I think a side wall of the mansion collapsed after my sudden take-off. Not that I would ever be back to verify that. Oh Force, please no.

C'baoth was, for once, satisfied with my achievements. I got us into orbit and asked him where he wanted to go next, fully expecting him to name that system I had told him off. But no, insanity, remember? So instead we flew to Trogan. Not the centre of the galaxy, and not even very important, but it was still under Imperial control. Maybe C'baoth was not that suicidal after all and wanted to get a good pilot.

It was not the pilot he was after, as it turned out. He captured a complete _Lancer_-class frigate. As a one-man-show, it was amazing and frightening to watch. C'baoth just went to the crew, talked to the captain and a few minutes later we took of. The crew seemed slightly puzzled about this, and so was the captain. He didn't really know how and why, but he knew that what he was doing was right and that he had to do it fast.

I kept in the background and watched. It was no wonder that people were suspicious of the Jedi. Seeing one at work could well make you doubt your own decisions as far back as taking your first breath. Fortunately, the Dark Jedi had something else on his mind. All the way to wherever he wanted to go, he kept to himself, often locked up in his quarters and he spoke seldom.

I got myself a pad and began to redo the essays I had written for Seros. They would be bad, but better than no homework at all. I doubted that Mad Jedi crushing your work under their heels counted as excuse for him. Not that I had much else to do. C'baoth might be able to have everybody believe what he wanted, but I couldn't. So suspicion abounded, especially when my Master abandoned me almost exclusively to the crew. Within an hour, I was more or less confined to my quarter if not in company of C'baoth.

And then we arrived.

C'baoth had me informed by a messenger, I grabbed the bags and then we took of in a small shuttle. There was no window, but I could feel the bulging mass of the Chimera approach, and when we set down in the hangar with a soft thud, I knew I was back home. Shouldering the bags, I joined C'baoth as he left the shuttle. My feet touched the metal floor of the Chimera and a weight dropped off me that I hadn't know, I carried with me.

The escort waiting for us looked less than happy, though. I only got enough time to dispose of the luggage before we were called to a meeting with Thrawn. Well, I guess C'baoth was the one called for. But still being his padawan, that meant I had to tag along. In my brown garb. I didn't like that.

"You will not like what is coming, Mellanna," C'baoth informed me. "You will just have to trust me that it is for the best."

"If you believe it is, it will be," I answered, considering whether to invoke the cliché of the bad feeling, but I certainly didn't feel good.

He nodded and laid his hand on my shoulder. "Your services will not be forgotten, my Padawan, and my memory is long." Though I rather doubted the latter, I kept my mouth shut. "Do not think I will forget you."

We arrived in the small room where Thrawn and Pellaeon already waited. I didn't like the glare Thrawn gave me when he saw me in my padawan clothes, but all I could do was shrug apologetically. It was his fault, come to think of it.

Thrawn was one angry Grand Admiral. If C'baoth had been ready to throw Star Destroyers into the maw single-handedly, Thrawn was on and about to chuck the Jedi after them. "Thanks to your insistence on delaying me, we've lost the _Peremptory_. I trust you're satisfied."

I had to wince. The _Peremptory_ had been a Star Destroyer, and no matter if nobody could agree on how long they were, there were way to many people on one to just have it destroyed. I wasn't sure about the numbers, 10k or 30k or something around there. Or maybe that was just the minimum you needed? I didn't want to think about it. Closing my eyes I swallowed. So many dead.

"Why are you here?" Thrawn demanded to know. I must have missed a part of the conversation. I wondered if I should confess giving C'baoth ideas, or if my Master had an explanation ready himself. I'd rather not tell Thrawn about the ideas anyway. What if he prevented C'baoth from cloning Luke? That would be disaster.

"You've made many promises," the Dark Jedi came to my rescue, "since you first arrived on Wayland, Grand Admiral Thrawn. I'm here to make sure those promises are kept."

"And how do you intend to do that?"

"By making certain that I'm too important to be, shall we say, conveniently forgotten," C'baoth replied. And added that he was going back to Wayland. Not that this came as a surprise to me. Following the argument I just hoped that I was to stay here.

"Come," he finally said," looking at the stars displayed at the walls. "Let us discuss the new arrangement of our Empire." C'baoth stared at the maps, and I knew he had again forgotten about everything around him.

"Dismissed, private, Morrison," Thrawn said into the silence. "We will talk later."

"Yes, Sir!" I snapped into a salute. Private. That meant Empire. I was _so _back! I left the room and consulted my pad. The next thing scheduled was a meeting with Dave. I didn't look any further. The treats of being back home. Humming I went to my quarters and changed into my imperial outfit. It felt good. Still I folded up the brown robes neatly and put them away with the rest of my stuff. Not because I would ever be a Jedi, or because there were such nice memories attached to it. Not, I kept it simply because it was _mine_. One of the few things here that were. And that cloak was really nice and warm.

"You're still alive!" I sat down opposite of Dave, as likely as not grinning madly.

He just raised a bow, probably wondering when I would drop my habit to express the obvious. He looked good. I was all kinds of happy to be back home.

"A team has successfully been inserted on Byss," he switched on a map of the system. A lot of interesting lines stuff were marked and I couldn't make any sense of them.

I was about to ask the obvious again, but closed my eyes shortly and shook my head. "How do we know they're still alive?"

"They did send the arranged signal," Dave, didn't sound troubled the least. "For the coming weeks they will collect all data they can get their hands on."

"Good," I pretended to study the map. "How will they get it back to us?"

"The operation itself doesn't need to worry you. Everything is prepared."

"And if they are discovered doing it?"

Dave gave me a long, sad gaze. "We expect to hear from the only once, Mellanna."

Suppressing the indignant squeak I felt rising, I stared down at my clenched fists. I couldn't even start to mouth a protest, it was all too vain.

"They knew what they were in for," Dave said softly. "You would have gone, too."

I nodded, trying not to break into tears. Because he was right. I would have gone, too. The galaxy or me? Give me the coordinates and get out of my way. Only that stormies were loads better equipped to be actually successful with something like this. "Okay," I finally whispered. "How many?"

"Two squads," Dave said, back to business as if nothing had happened.

That was how many people? Maybe ten. That was a lot better than a whole Star Destroyer going up in flames because of your arrival. And anyway, on top of all those dead people, what did ten more matter? But they did. Each of them.

"The Mandos are doing their own surveillance," I changed the topic. "I think Jusik and a part of clan Skirata will cooperate. That would increases the chances of success. But I don't think, we'll make it without Skywalker."

"That remains to be seen."

Be that as it may, it didn't reassure me. And it did nothing to my concentration as I went to train with Arn. And then there was another meeting with the Grand Admiral looming ahead. Maybe it would be easier, if I just stormed Byss on my own and got myself killed. Problem solved.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	62. 062

Sixty-Two

Too bad that I could not storm Byss before the meeting with Thrawn. That would have rendered this special kind of torture unnecessary, too. I clenched my teeth and told myself that doom was just a self-fulfilling prophecy and I would just have to believe. _Even if you want to believe there's a way… _But I would do whatever it took.

The Grand Admiral was not looking too happy. The loss of a Star Destroyer was nothing you could take easily, and I am sure I had a guilty look plastered all over my face. "I am sorry about the _Peremptory_," I said. "If I had known -"

A gesture of his hand stopped me and I shut up. "C'baoth will be transferred temporarily to Wayland, to 'supervise' the cloning project." I could hear the inverted commas around supervising. A voice like that - you could do anything with it, couldn't you? "For the moment, your apprenticeship to him is suspended."

Relief washed over me and it must have showed. I felt a grin creep all over my face.

"It will be immediately restored in case of need, though," his voice cut my happiness short.

"I understand, Sir," I replied softly. _Whatever it takes._ I swallowed.

"Did you pass on your information?"

"I -," I hesitated. "Probably. There was no chance to pass it on directly." So my suspicions had been correct. "You knew Skywalker would come," it sounded accusing even to my own ears.

"_Know_ is too strong a word," Thrawn said, his eyes flashing again. "But information strongly suggested it, yes. Your point being?"

I opened my mouth to answer, then shut it again. I didn't really know what my point was, didn't even know if I had one. "I just don't believe you are with me on that topic," I finally said. "And you don't think that saving your life is enough to warrant it."

"Your indecision on that topic is irritating," he stated.

"It's difficult to say," I hedged. "Somehow, actually naming it, makes everything much too real."

"So what _do_ you want?" He cocked his head slightly.

"You know what I want," I told him. "But I know what you want, too. Something you cannot get on your own."

"And you can?" He raised an eyebrow half amused.

"I don't know," I shot back. "It's your territory. So you consider if it would work."

He did consider. For a great long while. All I could do was not to fidget, not obviously, that is. In my boots, my toes were doing The Nervousness Dance. And my heart was unsure whether to pound like mad or simply stop.

Finally, the Grand Admiral leaned forward and rested his chin in his hand, assessing me. His gaze was burning right through me, almost like C'baoth undoing my tattoo, only that this was hurting everywhere.

But I didn't look away, I couldn't. This was where the future was decided, this was the moment of truth. I stared right back, trying not to die of heart attack. If this didn't work - if this didn't work _everything_ would come apart.

"I will consider the option," he said eventually. "And its value."

"Do that." It was said amazingly clear and cool. I was not sure it had come from my mouth. "And do get in contact with me before the attack on Bilbringi, a while before. There might be more guests that you imagine."

He nodded shortly. "Dismissed."

I fled the conference room and didn't stop until I reach the gym of the 501st. I didn't care what was next on my schedule, right now, I needed to vent some. And ripping off the head of Arn or Seros was out of the question. I looked around for something to punch. All punching bags were in use and Dave wasn't there. Okay, I flexed my muscles and did some warming up. I'd just have to fight shadows then.

Of course, those were a bit too fast for me, and as I sped up to keep up with them, I found myself getting calmer. When my right fist connected with something solid, my first reaction was to cover my body, retract my right and I only got the other arm up in time to parry a blow coming from - Fi. I opened my eyes completely, which was better for me, because he was already placing another punch.

"Getting better, huh?" He grinned.

"Not much," I answered, barely able to evade. A completely non-descript clone stood behind him, watching the sparring with mild interest. "Mr. Grand Admiral is just driving me up walls, and I cannot -ouch!" Fi's fist had connected painfully with my stomach.

Mr. Inconspicious shook his head. "Far from acceptable," he said in a voice as nondescript as the rest of him. "This will never do."

"This," I objected angrily, "has a name. And that's Mel." Another punch caught me in the kidneys. I dropped to the ground, but Fi was good. He didn't fall for it. Taking a kick in the chest, I curled around his leg and punched my forehead into the hollow of his knee.

Laughing, he fell, and raised his arms in surrender. "I give up, no need to get myself trouble with Dave."

For a moment I stared uncomprehending, then I laughed, too. "Sorry, I didn't think."

Mr. Inconspicuous scowled. "Won't do in real battle," he stated, shaking his head.

"Well, do better," I challenged him.

For a split second something animalistic flitted over his face, brute and unpredictable, but it was gone before it realised it had been there. "No touching the commander's playthings," he just said and turned to leave.

I shot a glance at Fi, but he just shook his head and winked. Obviously, Mr. Inconspicuous had another side that was not for me to judge. Okay, so I wouldn't. But for whatever reason, when I looked at him now, the beast seemed to lurk just under his skin. _Lykantrophie - ein Krieg in mir* _- I hope it wasn't that bad for him.

In that moment and exasperated Arn came to collect me. "Whyever you are roving about here instead of the appointed shooting range," he sighed, grabbing my arm. "No objections, you'll now be introduced to handling a blaster."

"Can I get a deecee?" I asked as he dragged me away.

"I your dreams, Mellanna," he replied. "In your dreams.

Well, so I made do with a blaster, which is only half the fun, but still the reason I didn't update here.

* * *

*Lyrics from a song by ASP


	63. 063

Sixty-Three

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!

Move it!!

I banged my head on the bulkhead above me and fell back onto the bunk dizzy. Staring up at the metal that didn't even show a tiny dent for my pains, there was only one thought in my head: I was back home! I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before getting into the sonic and then to breakfast. Konto tea , here I come! It was probably a lot more happy then the Grand Admiral to see me again.

The breakfast buffet was incredible, and even more so, since I hadn't had to prepare any of the dishes. I decided to have everything. A little later my table looked like a small buffet itself. In my adventurous mood I had even collected several beverages, two of them turning actually out to be juice.

A glance at my pad told me that fruit with goo on top would have to wait, though. Not that I could hope to be able to move after eating those. I put them in a box and went to the gym. Arn eyed them suspiciously.

"Didn't you get anything to eat on Jomark?", he wanted to know.

"Just overcompensating," I replied shaking my head. "You don't know how great it is just having to eat the food until you have to prepare it for weeks."

"I take it you're a great cook now?" He tried to see the positive side of it.

"Probably." I remembered the trail and error attempts of my cooking. "If you got lucky. But it was the part of the journey that was most fun."

"I just hope that C'baoth wasn't too bad to have around. Though his mind-reading abilities make me shudder to think about sharing the same ship with him even if it is several miles long." He seemed concerned. "I hope it wasn't too bad."

A huge grin split my face. "Not bad at all," beamed. " Mind reading maniac around and all you are allowed to think is happy thoughts? It was the best thing that could ever happen to me. You see, now I am always smiling."

He whacked me over the head. "Not funny."

"'m not serious," I mumbled back, rubbing my head. "All I could do was to keep my sanity, thank you very much. At least he's gone now."

"Well, yes." I could tell that this was not all of the answer. Which meant that C'baoth was not departed to Wayland which meant - well, I had no idea what that meant. Misinformation was not something I took well.

"Okay, he's off my back for now," I conceded. "And if I get a say in it, this is how it will stay. So, let's fight, I did nothing but shadow fighting in the last weeks."

Arn obliged and training went well. It was a whole different thing if you actually had an opponent to fight. Even if that meant getting some bruises along the way, usually because my defence was not what it should be. Since C'baoth was not out of my life completely, Arn insisted on keeping the lightsaber practice. I still liked it less than working with two sticks, my hands felt tied up, clinging both to the same hilt.

"You didn't become as bad as I feared," Arn commented at the end. "I suspect you spent quite some time practicing the forms?"

"There was not much else to do," I said. "Except for cooking, meditating and thinking happy thoughts. And working on my saber skills was something C'baoth approved of. He knew I need it."

"You will get good in time," Arn replied encouragingly. "All you need is more practice."

"Yes, and now I have all the time in the world, what with the added shooting practice," I mocked. Not to mention that Seros demanded more time with me to groom me into a perfect lady. I didn't have the heart to tell him that even if I spent every minute of the rest of my life on that, the time would be too short.

"I'll see you there," Arn tipped two fingers to his forehead in half a salute.

So much for spending my free evenings in the gym of the 501st. It had been a nice idea, and the probability of running into Dave had been great, too. And what did I get instead? A blaster. Blast it.

I managed to eat the fruit with goo on my way to Seros, only I didn't like the goo at all. I had expected something remotely resembling cream in any state - but if that was cream, it had gone sour, some ages ago. At least the fruit were good, one of them reminded me painfully of bananas. Reminiscences of home caught me off guard like that. A whiff of banana in my fruit salad, and memories washed over me. When most of the time, home seemed to be a remote place, almost like an illusion. I squashed the bit of fruit between my tongue and gum. Banana, no doubt.

Accordingly, I arrived depressed, and Seros was put out from the moment I entered. At least, I had my essays again, not as good as they had been, but I had them. Imperial procuration handed me a new pad almost as soon as I set my foot down on the deck of the _Chimera_. Probably losing your mobile was not _comme il faut_ on board.

Currently, Seros was convinced that I would need to know how to properly dance on balls of the Imperial kind. It was one of the nicer lessons, I liked dancing, even if it meant having orders shouted into your ear and having your posture corrected all the time. It beat greeting invisible guests and receiving invisible presents any day.

I was still humming at my dessert, when Toris suddenly strode in. "You're late," he proclaimed, and obviously expected me to drop everything right there and then.

Fat chance, I mean that was dessert, and a glance at my pad showed nothing but free time until I met with Arn at the shooting range. "Late for what?"

"Don't give me that." He took my pad, frowned and then shook it violently. Not that it changed anything. "Great, you managed to lose a pad already," he grumbled. "Doesn't matter, we got a lot of work to do on your ship."

"I don't have a ship, Toris," I said patently, wondering if I could spoon some dessert into my mouth without being impolite.

"Hell, you don't! Come on." He took my arm and dragged me up.

With a sigh, I gave in. "Okay, if you insist." He didn't let go of my arm all the way to the hangars, obviously well aware of the allure of desserts. It took some time until I realised, that we were not in the military kind of hangar I was used to. Okay, I had seen so far. It looked like some storage, the ships, all kinds of smaller ships, actually, hung in the clutches of huge tongs. Those moved the ships around at demand, and put them down on small platforms to work on, or into a huge chute that led out.

"They look amazing. I've never seen so many different ships in one place."

"There are only Imperial or neutral models," Toris explained. "But then, the rebels don't produce that good small freighters and personal ships anyway."

I thought of Luke still flying around in his X-Wing and nodded. "To who do all those belong?" I wanted to know.

"High ranking officers," Toris replied. "So feel special."

"Will do," I saluted perfunctory. Then something occurred to me. "I can't have a ship here, because I am not high-ranking. So what is this about?"

Toris pointed at a small ship on one of the platforms. It did look somewhat familiar. When we reached it, I recognised the _Liberty_.

"I don't need a ship," I told Toris.

"So you think," he answered. "It's a very good ship, and after some changes, it will be one of the best. In the realms of its possibilities."

"I don't _want _to need a ship," I tried again. "Whatever I could be ending up doing with it, I don't want to."

"Ah, no worries, Mel," his hand clapped down on my shoulder. "I don't think you're meant to fly to Byss with it."

"Fly to Byss?" I repeated aghast.

"You didn't think you were staying home for that one?" Toris looked torn between laughter and speechlessness.

I shook my head, trying not to think of it. Of course, it seemed rather obvious, though I had no idea what I was supposed to do there. There was nothing I could do that another Imperial was not miles better at.

"So, what are we going to do?" I asked instead, looking helplessly at the chunk of junk. No matter what Toris said, it was not my ship.

"Everything!" Toris sounded happy.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	64. 064

Sixty-Four

_I was flying through the sky. Not normal sky, but black star splattered space. It was difficult to breathe in the vacuum, but with some concentration it worked. After all it was only a dream. The star formations were foreign, and there were all too many stars around. Still, flying through them was exhilarating. I swooped into a valley and around under a bridge. I stood, with my hands on the rail staring into the night. The stars mirrored perfectly in the roaring river crashing by under the bridge that curved almost all the way into the stars._

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Arn said, his hand on my shoulder and I nod. "Come on."

He falls and pulls me over the rail, but try as I might, I cannot fly any longer. The boiling waters come ever closer. I want to wake up, but the water jumps up and embraces me. It doesn't hurt much and I can breathe, it's still a dream. I fly through the water.

"See, it's not that bad," Dave says.

I take his hand and peer through the huge transparisteel window. A world in black and grey lies behind it.

"And now, Mellanna," I turn and the eyes under the cowl gleam in sickly yellow, "you will die."

The Emperor raises his hands and I see the blue lines crawl towards me in slow motion. I want to back away, but the window is pressing against my back, cold and merciless. The lightning reaches my face -

I woke up screaming, and I was not alone. Other screams, more surprised than pained echoed through my small room. With my back pressed against the bulkhead, I tried to breathe again, while the two voices began to squabble.

"I'm only half done."

"Told you it was a bad idea."

"Shouldn't happen, nobody ever wakes up _screaming_."

"Maybe she's allergic-"

"Jes? Sey?" I ask into the darkness. "Is that you?"

"No!" Jes replies immediately.

"Yes," admits Sey at the same moment.

"Oh, Gods, you have no idea how glad I am," I hesitated staring into the blackness, "not to see you."

"Um, yes?" Sey sounded worried. "You okay?"

Slowly, I lay back again, pulling the blanket up to my chin. "Fine as I'm going to get. Just pretend I never woke up." There was some muffled discussion on the topic that I couldn't understand. "No really," I affirmed. "And how would I look with half a moustache later?"

The argument became more urgent. Finally Jes said, "Okay, will do."

A soft blue light came on, and it had just the colour the lightning in my dream had had. I closed my eyes and tried not to fidget as something cool tickled over my face. From the feel of it, it would be the biggest moustache ever.

I tried to get to sleep again after they left, but I was too awake. For a while I just lay in the darkness considering my options. Not that there were many. Getting up too soon meant time for a real shower, an extended breakfast, maybe some time at the gym of the 501st. None of that had any appeal right then. I just wanted the cold gone from bones. Maybe shower would be a good decision, yet.

Stumbling into the fresher I got a glance at the chrono - two in the morning. That was actually much too early to do anything. Especially, if I wanted to survive the coming day. My reflection stared at me with small red eyes, sporting something that looked like tentacles growing out of my mouth. So much for a moustache.

I rolled up in my bunk again, determined to get some more rest. Not that sleep came. But I had practice with that. I just closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep until I was asleep. At least, that was the theory. It tended to work or not. The realm between waking and sleeping was usually a nice enough place, but right then it had cowls lurking in the shadows and yellow eyes peering at me.

Try as I might, I couldn't get Palpatine out of my head. Did that mean he was really in there, reaching out with the Force? I surely hoped not, though it was not unheard of. I wondered how many Sith or Dark Jedi you could tolerate in your head before it got overcrowded. Considering how I liked my privacy, probably one was too much already. I just wished there was a way to know for sure that C'baoth had stayed out of my thoughts more often than not.

Such thoughts didn't improve my mood any, and sleep wasn't coming either. And that completely without annoying neighbours that made noise in the middle of the night. All I could hear was nothing. The silence was as complete as the darkness. I tried to feel for the hum of the _Chimera's_ engines, but it was not there. Only imagination could help that. At least in that respect, I needed not fear.

So I was floating through space, a tiny part of a huge ship that was in itself but a small part of a giant war machine. Still, in the vast expanses of space, it was but a trifle itself. So, put into perspective, what did it matter that I was lying awake, half scared, when I should actually be sleeping? When actually I should -

Well, truth be told, what I _should really _be doing was looking forward to another day in a small shop. Get annoyed by the bus-loads of kids flooding it, taking everything apart, dreading the arrival of Darth Colleague. It might even be time already to look forward to my holiday, where I _should _be lying on the beach, swim in the sea and eat ice cream in supersized servings. That was what I _really _should be doing.

Not to mention I should be visiting friends, my family, and try as I might to avoid the topic, there was actually a boyfriend waiting. I sighed. Now that was the last thing I wanted to be reminded of. The real problem with that was not how I would handle it here, because I hadn't done that very well. I thought of Dave more often than of the man I left behind, and I felt guilty. Not because it was wrong, but because I didn't feel guilty about it at all. That I should give up on my significant other faster than on anybody else I knew was frightening. It was wrong and still- There was always space for more friends. There was always only one family you belonged to. And there was always only space for one significant other.

The real problem would be returning. That would be hard, though not impossible. With Dave gone - what alternatives did I have? And even should I manage to get myself with child by the time of my return, there were enough similarities between my Dave and Not-Dave that it might never be conspicuous. The only conspicuous thing would be retuning with child and suddenly having a blue child. I chuckled. Now that would be a fanfic worth writing. But not for me. I curled up and thought of a nicer man.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	65. 065

Sixty-Five

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!

Move it!!

I got out of bed pretty well and didn't even feel too tired. Rather amazing for the nightmares I had. I used the sonic, then some real water and soap before I commed Arn.

"Hi there," I had to grin when I saw his expression. "Is this any kind of offensive, or can I show my face like this?"

Shaking his head sin disbelief he finally admitted, "it's not offensive. Just - weird. Who-"

"Thanks, that was all I wanted to know." I cut him off. "See you later." His surprised face seemed to hover on the screen even after I broke the connection. I didn't mind the drawings in my face much, it was a prank, so let there be fun. Still, I was rather happy to see no meeting with Thrawn scheduled for the day. That would have been awkward.

The strange make-up drew some glances in the refectory, but nothing worde than shrugs and giggles. I was to busy eating to bother. There seemed to be all too much choice. I was munching through my third sandwich with suspicious toppings when Arn sat down opposite of me. His surprise had changed to resignation. And amusement, though that was highly unofficial.

"Try this," he said handing me something that looked like a broad marker. "It might burn a bit, but the paint should come off."

"Thanks," I grinned at him, taking the pen. "I'll make sure Seros won't get to see this, he'd go spare."

"You can use your newly acquired diplomatic skill on him then," Arn suggested. "You should have him convinced that it's the best thing ever to happen in no time."

"I'd rather use my newly acquired shooting skills on him," I replied.

"Your chances of achieve anything are about the same." He took a piece of vegetable from my plate and munched on it thoughtfully.

"Yeah, my shooting is about as sharp as my tongue," I sighed.

"We'll work on it," Arn assured be, taking another piece of vegetable.

"Thanks. It's not often a guy volunteers for jeering." I slapped his hand when he tried to liberate another bit from my plate. Of course, he got back at me during training, but what did I mind? For the time being I was happy enough just to be back. I'd take all the training thrown at me, even if I had to suffer Seros for extended periods.

And I did. The days went by and my old routine was comfortable and reassuring. It was embarrassing how easily I was bribed. Jes soon sent me some pictures of my funny face and after some difficulties I managed to turn them into a screen saver. It would have been nicer with pics of Sey, Jes and Arn, too, but I didn't know how you got any. One day, I promised myself, one day, I'd get some. But right now I was much too busy. Toris was driving me crazy. Him and his passion for ships.

I looked at ships like I viewed cars: I drove them, but if something had to be done, I handed it over to somebody who 's job it was to keep my car running smoothly. When I needed a tyre changed, I called my car club and they did it. that was what I was paying my fees for. Only that right now I didn't of course, but that was beside the point.

Toris on the other handed held the stance that it should be easy for me to take out the whole motor, take it to pieces as small as possible, and then reassemble everything in a way that did not only work, but improve a lot on the original state. The loads of practice did have an effect, too. After just a few attempts, I was only mildly tempted to whack everything into shape with the heaviest tool I could find.

It was well, when I had lessons with Seros afterwards. My speeches were uncharacteristically inflammatory and agitational. On the boring side, I was introduced to all the duties of all staff members of a diplomatic group and also got to do all of them as well as I could on my own. Sending yourself memos, reading them and then telling yourself to act on them in a certain way does get your head fuzzy. But I had to be a committee all on my own.

I liked the overall routine. Though, it did show a lack of Dave. I decided to amend that all on my own. If they wanted me to learn initiative, I would - on my own terms. Trying to concentrate on the space lines useful for an attack and possible siege I wondered how to approach the subject. After all, Dave was rather official in those meeting. Of course, that told me a lot. I mean him being part of the 501st and the elite and never being a beat off the regulations. Still, it was hard to remember how big the small concessions must seem from his point of view.

"So, what do you like doing?" I asked peering through the most common traffic lanes around Byss.

"I like planning the defeat of Byss," Dave replied without looking at me.

"But why?"

"Because I am planning it with you."

Oh. I felt myself blush. Fatally charming or what? I felt like an idiot. "Okay, but assuming I would join for some other activity," I tried again. "What would you like to do then?"

He considered that for a moment. "Unarmed combat training," he said.

There might have been a hint of colour in his cheeks that suggested - well suggestive things. Trying not to laugh, I put my chin on my hands and grinned. "I like the idea. I am sure we can find some time for that in our schedules."

He nodded. "We can extend the Rimma Trade route into the core or," he pointed into the map, "we use the merging of the Corellian Trade Route and the Corellian Run to cover up the troop movement."

With a sigh I looked at the map. Whatever changes in the schedules we'd make, it would have to wait until after the official part of this was over. "Can't we just go around here, hide behind N'Zoth and then jump to Byss?" I wanted to know. "Maybe bash some Yevethan butt while we're there?"

"Why should we want to do that?" Dave asked back.

"Uh, I think they got a small fleet of Star Destroyers or something," I hedged. "Maybe the Grand Admiral wants them back?"

Shaking his head Dave continued to trace possible ways through space. I contented myself with watching his dedication to the job at hand. And catching those small glances he cast me from the corner of his eyes. Life could be so good. I smiled to myself, looking forward to the end of the meeting.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	66. 066

Sixty-Six

_Not this one again.  
I run through the corridors of the_ Chimera_, and everything around me is going up in explosions. I know I have to be fast and find the way out, but the corridors are small, I can hardy stand, I must crawl. And explosions make everything shake._

_I know this one from ym childhood. I used to have it quite a lot, either with explosions, or with fire. And usually, I had to get out of the house of my uncle and aunt. I wonder why they are back now, but not for long. I still have not reached the exit. A blast shoots fire and shrapnel across my path, but I must hurry on. Behind me the ship is melting, burning, falling apart._

_Finally I get out. I stand on the moon ad breathe the thin vacuum of space around me. It's just a dream, I know. Bust still - it leaves me so frightened._

_My eyes snap open._

_Not this one again.  
__I scramble to my feet and run again, away from the explosions behind me, into the shrinking corridors, the explosions drawing closer, tongues of fire already licking over the bulkheads before me. I'm all out of breath. Just a bit longer, just a little further. The ground shakes and behind me the ship evaporates into nothing ness. The only way is on._

_At least, It's not the one with the nails in my head. That has to count for something. Breathless, I round another corner. If only they would make some noise, the silence is worse than thunder. I can feel the heat reach out for me as I crawl. Where is that damned exit?_

_I burst into the open followed by a gust of flames, stumble, get up again panting. I'm on a balcony of imaginary Cosruscant, a night breeze cooling my face. Clouds cover a grey sky and the silhouettes of the towers are bright, their windows framed in blackness._

_"It's not that bad," he says and I want to lay my head on his shoulder but can't, so I nod. "It's worse."_

_As he turns, the cowl falls over his face, and light in blue and yellow. I have wake up!_

_My eyes snap open._

_Not this one again.  
__The fire is already raging in my cabin. No explosions this time. I stumble, bounce against the door, the corridor walls, the ground. It hate being caught in a loop, especially in this dream. The walls seems to melt around me, flickering in the super-hot air. Already I could touch the ceiling if I reached out._

_How far until I get out? How many repeats? I run towards a closing blast door, manage to get through, barely. The fire is not stopped the least. I turn and run, around another bend, through another shrinking corridor, the sound of my boots the only noise. If only I was awake. _

_Open your eyes, and then open them again.  
__And if it doesn't work -  
__I face the approaching fire. I need to wake up.  
__- if it doesn't work -  
__The fire storm closes in. No time to curl up even.  
__- burn._

I lay awake, heart pounding, my breath rasping in my ears, but at least I was really awake now. I pressed my back against the cold bulkhead. All I really wanted is somebody to hold me now. I snuffled and curled up, pulling the blanket tight around me. Almost there.

Funny. Come to think of it, I never had somebody to hold me after nightmares, not after my parents stopped being responsible. Somehow my former and current bf didn't like being woken in the middle of the night. And arguing with a half-asleep male was not helping anything in such a state.

I closed my eyes. At least, there had been a grunting lump of somebody beside me then. The bulkhead was not only lacking in the arms-to-hold department, it was also cold. I rolled onto my belly, almost suffocating myself with my pillow and pulled the blanket over my head. Almost there…

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!

Move it!!

Oh, great. I rolled over in my bunk considering my options which were none. If only the nightmares would let me sleep, but in the last days they had become annoyingly persistent. Good thing that I was not a Jedi, otherwise I might have to get worried. Instead I was annoyed. Fucking nightmares.

I stared into my konot tea with bleary eyes, still just wanting to be held. There was some time with Dave later on, but there was something impossibly literal about clones. When they say combat training, unarmed or not, they meant combat training. I was getting rather good at it too. In close combat quickness and agility were major assets, and finally something I was good at.

Maybe it was not good for your self-assessment if you compared your state of physical fitness with that of clones of the 501st, but I aimed high. That way, even failure would be some kind of victory. Theoretically. And even if he was trying to apply a joint lock it felt good to have him all over me. I think the feeling was reciprocated. But in the end, it stopped short just an inch before being really satisfying.

With a sigh I swallowed the rest of my tea. I would have to do something about that. Last time I remember, I hadn't been the shy one, so where _was_ my problem? _Okay, stupid question, I knew exactly where it was._ And would hopefully stay. This was the story of my life. And who was to chose the male protagonist if not I? _Oh, shut up already. _Just sayin'. _I don't want to hear it._

Arn eyed me critically when I entered the gym, but a quick check yielded nothing amiss. Maybe I had something growing out of my nose? I had just gotten another set of shots, and I suspected that I got all kinds of immunisations along the way. Considering how diverse the illnesses of the galaxy were, it was a good if painful thing. Some of the shots left nasty bumps that hurt for a few days before vanishing again.

"Everything about you looks fit as a fiddle except your face," he said shaking his head. "Nightmares again and too much tea?"

I shrugged helplessly. There was no denying, because I was sure he could find out if he wanted. Living in a completely monitored environment did have its drawbacks. "It'll pass," I mumbled.

"Let's hope so," he replied. "The treatments we have against addiction are not nice."

I wondered how much worse than going cold turkey the treatments could be. But knowing the Imps, they surely had found a way to improve on the misery of that. Training went well, right up to the point where Arn whacked me over the head with his faux sabre. For a second I didn't even realise it, because I was all spaced out trying to communicate with C'baoth.

I had felt his presence on board a few times in the last weeks, like a call, but when I tried to find out if and where I was supposed to go, there was nothing. Whatever he planned, he didn't want me around. Not that I minded, it was nice to know that I was out of this game. But still I felt obliged to pretend I cared. The tugging at my mind had never been so strong before, so I had assumed that C'baoth was finally trying to tell me something. I rubbed my head. With this headache I would have real trouble understanding him.

"Where was your mind?" Arn almost yelled. He was entitled, because he had looked at my head before shouting. I appreciated.

"C'baoth," I replied. "He's here and it felt as if he was calling for me."

Arn dropped something cold into my hands, and while I pressed it to my throbbing head, he scanned it with the gym's med scanner. "Nothing but a headache," he finally said.

"Feels bad enough," I said. Of course, it was not as bad as having C'baoth around, but with all the pain in my head, I was not really able to formulate such a complicated though, much less voice it. "Ouch," I added instead.

It was not as if the incident cut the training short, though. There were obviously a million things you could do to work out for which you didn't need your head. And an Imp knew them all.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	67. 067

Sixty- Seven

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!!_

At least my head was not hurting any more. The sonic seemed to worsen the headache again, but one caf and two mugs of konot tea worked miracles. Though I still felt a bit foggy, I was awake. Staring at the breakfast buffet, I wondered why I didn't feel the urge to eat anything. was I coming down with something? Or was it just an after-effect of getting whacked over the head so bad.

To avoid a repetition of this, I had blaster training scheduled instead. By now, I handled the weapon well enough. I always managed not to shot anybody, and mostly hit the general outline of the target. Once I even hit the mark, but I had been aiming - lower out of annoyance, so I don't think that counted.

Arn corrected my arm time and again, improving, however shortly, on my attempts to incapacitate a cardboard cut-out. The good thing was that if I ever had to shot somebody for real, they would surely bleed to death. The question was, if they'd have enough time to kill me too in the meantime. Firing another shot, I had to admit that they most likely would.

"You keep squinting," Arn scolded. "Wherever did you get the idea you'd see better with only one eye?"

Grumbling, I aimed again, making sure I had both eyes open this time. It was all easier when I had to shot with no time to prepare. Nobody expected me to hit a certain mark then, and I did well enough hitting anything. But it was nothing new that my conscious efforts didn't improve on my instincts any.

"Can't try a deecee," I asked again. "Just once?"

"Maybe if you can handle a weapon not the same size as you are, we can give it a try," Arn replied, adjusting the position of my arm again. "We wouldn't want the DC walking off with you now, would we?"

"Might work out better than this," I murmured. But I kept shooting, and in average my results did improve. Slowly. It was probably good I was not practising with the 501 this time. Their precision would only have depressed me. Though my schedule was so tight lately, that any second spent with them was precious and rare that even getting depressed would have been an improvement.

Instead I had to resign myself to getting depressed by Seros. He was inappropriately happy shooing me through attaché duties, and making me fill out all kinds of silly forms, in triplicate. So much for a future with less paperwork to go around. Who ever read all those memos?

That was not a question of importance as far as Seros was concerned. He hovered over my shoulder as if I was going to write something worthy to win a Noble Prize. Not that I felt like doing so. At home I had changed my goal from Nobel to Hugo anyway, and this wasn't even fiction. While I wondered how Science Fiction would look like here, Seros suddenly, trapped my hands on the keyboard.

"Watch your finger, Ms Morrison," he almost shouted. "You were doing so well until now. This is not a game, get your act together!"

For a second I simply stared at the monitor. The text had turned into a jumbled heap of letters as my fingers had slipped from their positions. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, deleting the unintelligible chaos. This field of study was the one I worried about least. If I ever had to use it, that would be way off in the future and I'd get a warning long in advance. Dutifully, I retyped the text correctly.

Seros returned to hovering. Whatever his damage was, he better get over it soon. He did. Grabbing my pad as soon as I was finished, he looked through the tasks, talking to himself under his breath. The only thing I got was a final 'will do'. But then, I rarely managed to rate any higher than that.

"Your skills are far from perfect," he said handing my pad back. "What you really need is practice, on-the-job-training. And that you shall get. I have finally managed to get you into an entourage for a diplomatic mission," he reported proudly. "It is just a minor attaché position, but it should do as your first assignment."

"A diplomatic mission?" I got out, almost too shocked to speak. "Why, where to and - why?"

"It seems that the leaders on Carida are worried about the Grand Admiral's new source of personnel," Seros explained. "They need to be appeased. As I said, it is nothing big, but you can learn a lot. I made sure -"

"I don't think this is a good idea," I interrupted him. "What does the Grand Admiral-"

"Of course the Grand Admiral is informed," he huffed, interrupting me as well. "This mission has his explicit approval. So if you would get your inferiority complex under control for long enough to listen to the briefing, I will go on."

So I listened in stunned silence. This was all kinds of not good at all. Though maybe, I mean it was Carida after all. Who knew? Bargaining chips and leverage; plans within plans. I copied the files Seros had for me and almost ran to my quarters. There I called Arn.

"I need to talk to Thrawn;" I just said. "And before I get off on that wild goose chase to Carida. It's important. Can it be done?"

Arn regarded me for a long moment. "You are sure it needs to be before?"

Nodding I glanced at the schedule which told me I was due to ship out very early in the morning. And it was already late afternoon. "I am sorry, but yes, I am sure."

He nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." I began to pace as soon as the connection was broken. Then I remembered that there was still some work waiting for me. I began to read through the files Seros had given me. It all looked straightforward enough. Just a short trip to assure Carida that no matter how many clones Thrawn could produce, there was nothing that could replace the academy.

I was already memorising names and positions when Arn called back. I could have glomped him to death, and he realised that even through the comm. "Just hurry, will you?"

"Sir! Yes, Sir!" I saluted and sprinted off.

It was amazing how easily I found my way around the _Chimera_ by now. The corridors that had looked all the same were now like streets, each a bit different, each something unique.

In front of the door, I took a second to regain my breath before stepping into the small antechamber. I murmured greetings to Rhukh and moved on.

This time, I did get the museum treatment. It was amazing and it took some time until I started to walk toward Thrawn. The walls were full of copies of Kaspar David Friedrich; one more beautiful than the other. Sculptures of trees were scattered around the room, some like white marble, some iridescent like self-contained holograms.

"Of course, you like them." His voice was neutral, as if he was still to decide how to take my sudden appeal for a visit.

"They are beautiful," I agreed, unable to take my eyes off them. "I love trees."

"I know." Something was - off about the way he said it, but I ignored it.

"You try your best not to be impressed."

"Seems my best is not good enough," I replied.

His eyes flashed and he shook his head slightly. "Obviously not."

Still smiling I shrugged. "I know, it never is."

There was a long silence. My eyes roved around the room, but I knew I would not have enough time to appreciate everything properly. "I am worried about the mission to Carida," I said instead. "I am not sure I understand your intentions."

"What is there to be uncertain about?" He raised a brow.

"Everything?" I asked. "Am I to contact and or pick up that guy or just stand around looking like a fool in the entourage?"

"I am sure it will be quite a sight." He was making fun of me again. "Just make sure you are always available for new orders."

"Yes, Sir." No answers were answers, too; only not. But if this was all the information I got, I'd just have to go by the seat of my pants and hope for the best. Even if I didn't know where this was going, Thrawn knew, and he had it all sorted. At least that was the message the artwork was suggesting.

"I just hope you know what I'm doing," I said.

"I am."

That made one of us. "In that case, I'm sure, I won't disappoint you, Sir."

"Dismissed."

I left again, not sure what had just happened. We had certainly come to some kind of agreement, though I was not even sure which and about what. It felt as if the headache was returning and I still had to pack. Provided I found out how to get a bad and some spares. I got my pad out and called Arn again. Just when I had thought that his babysitting days might be over.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	68. 068

Sixty-Eight

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!

Move it!!

My departure was scheduled around noon which left me time to say a prolonged goodbye to Dave. It was my first farewell ever to include combat training. The gym was pretty full and I got more than one scathing look for daring to take up room there.

It didn't matter much, mostly I was too busy with Dave to notice. It was only when Lyk glanced over that I really felt the disdain. As impressive it was to watch the 501st train, it was even more impressive if you knew the men doing the seemingly impossible stunts. Maybe I stared, I don't know. Fi and Lyk were such a sight.

Only that Lyk seemed annoyed by the attention. After a while he left the gym, but not without throwing some telltale stares in my direction. I didn't know why, but he really didn't like me.

"You should let me train with him," I said, not taking my eyes off Lyk. "There's something he can teach me."

"And that would be?"

"To lose."

Dave put a hand on my shoulder and shook his head. "He's thorough and we can't spare you long enough for you to spend several weeks in bacta tank."

I wondered if I should tell Dave that some weeks in a bacta tank sounded a lot better to me than going on a diplomatic mission, but I guessed he knew. And, yes, he was right. As always. I should have hated him. But I didn't, couldn't.

"I'll call when I'm back," I promised.

The chrono told me that I had half an hour left to get to my ship. A glance on my pad told me that I was to rendezvous with the _Restrictor;_ fortunately, it also yielded the position of that ship. Me cruising planlessly around the galaxy was a no-go.

To my amazement, I boarded the _Liberty_ all on my own. No babysitter of any kind. I started her up and nervously waited for my time to take off, hoping I had secured my bag enough. The way I flew, it might just knock me out. In the end, I didn't have to fly out on my own at all. I was placed in space with a tractor beam, and would have taken off in a direction of my choice, had there not been a dozen other ships around. The _Chimera_ jumped and left me alone in the chaos.

The other ships followed an intricate pattern I could make no sense of. Anyway, my hands were about too sweaty to hold on to my control stick. The _Liberty_ wobbled through the assembly like water in a vacuum. At least my comm stayed silent. If the other pilots had started shouting at me, I would most likely have collided with them - all of them. One by one the ships left the vicinity and jumped to light speed. With only a few around, I finally managed to unglue my hand from the joystick and punch my coordinates into the navcomp.

The good object took so long to plot a course, that by the time I had a direction into which to turn the ship, I was all alone in space. It was a strange feeling, like ultimate freedom. I could go anywhere now, any place I liked. It would take the Imperials some time to realise I had not arrived at the _Restrictor_ as planned, and then they'd get me, but until then…. I watched the countdown to hyperspace with a sigh. Everywhere to go, a whole galaxy ahead and the ship I went to called _Restrictor_. Bother, my life.

The _Restrictor_ turned out to be one of the Dreadnaughts of the Katana fleet and loomed not half as impressively as a Star Destroyer. It did pull me in with a tractor beam, though, which gave me the time to get my hands dry again and put myself into an approximately presentable shape.

Not that it helped any. When I exited the ship, there was nobody there. My pad sprang into life as new data was downloaded on it, and presented my with my cabin and schedules. So much for a warm welcome. It took some time to get used to the different layout of the Dreadnaught, but in the end I did find my bunk. In a room with three other bunks. I put my bag down on the only unoccupied one and looked around, but my roommates were nowhere to be seen.

Since I didn't know how long the trip would take, I didn't unpack my bag. Instead I consulted my pad. It happily claimed I was currently in a meeting. So much for helpful alarms. I hadn't expected to miss them one day. After hurrying through half the ship, I found myself in a room full of indignant-looking people that had left me a seat at the very front. I could feel my face turning red as I sat down, not even daring to murmur an excuse.

The briefing was long and thorough, but still boring. Most of the time, the discussed topics had nothing to do with my duties which seemed to be mostly hanging back and taking notes, so I could later hand in reports. I made sure to remember the faces and names important to me, and for one I was glad for Seros' training, because I knew pretty well how to approach who. If I ever got to that.

Finally the meeting was over. The group broke up rather quick, obviously strictly along the lines of the hierarchy. When I tried to make some contact, I got generally ignored. It was strange to say something, and they'd maybe glance at me and then go on as if nothing happened. I figured it would be better with my roommates, so I returned to our room. Just to find myself completely alone in it.

For a while I kept busy with the notes and briefings Seros had given me on the mission, and checking my schedule. But neither could hold my attention for long. Since there was really nothing to do, I went to explore the ship instead. Okay, I wandered around aimlessly and got in the way of people striding purposefully through the corridors. When I found a refectory, I just decided to eat, better than boredom, and I hadn't had much opportunities for useless eating lately.

At least, there was cake. It's better than nothing and it doesn't talk back. I poked it, thinking of home. I wondered where everybody else of the entourage was. I shouldn't have. A group of people including some faces I had seen at the briefing took a table not far. And they talked loud enough for me to listen in. Obviously, I was meant to, because they delivered a neat explanation as to why my mere existence was an insult to the group that consisted of well-groomed and well-bred members of important families. Families with history and influence and money, neither of which the insolent upstart (I guess that was me) could claim.

I poked my cake some more. Seems being a mere mortal was a disgrace, as was getting assigned to missions just like that on the whim of an overbearing Grand Admiral. Seemed that politics didn't give a damn about the actual current state of the Empire. In their world, things were still pretty palpaninesque.

I returned to the shared room and got my pad out. I would show them all. At least, that was the plan. So I learnt all facts and faces, names and plans by heart. I also managed to tell my pad to beep ten minutes before something was in my schedule. I would need the advance warning.

Suddenly, the other three women turned up. They took their suitcases and left again. I just managed to jump up before the last was out again.

"Excuse me-"

"No," she turned around and looked me over snidely, "we don't."

I sat down again. Now that was - unexpected. And I hadn't even had the time to make one of my stupid mistakes yet. I put my pad away, grabbed my bag and hurried after them. When I was closing in on the hangars, my pad beeped, dutifully, informing me about the impending arrival. Just great.

I found my place in the strict organisation, but just one glance was enough to tell me that mistake one was about to happen. Everybody was wearing some formal dress-uniform kind of clothes. That is, everybody except me. I had packed them into my bag very carefully so it wouldn't get any wrinkles. I hadn't expected to need them right from the start. And now it was too late to change. I looked around furtively.

Yep, too late. Even if I managed in the little remaining time between boarding the shuttle and getting to the surface before having to exit, there was no place to change really. Except out in the open before everybody else. And nobody had bothered to tell me. I clenched my teeth. No, I was not the child of a Core-family, I lacked the accent, the bearing and the connections, but that was no reason, that was no reason - this was _my_ Empire, too.

Only that it wasn't. It was not even Thrawn's Empire, really. I closed my eyes for a moment as the shuttle landed with a small thud. _Don't let is show._ The procession began to exit, and the smells of a foreign planet hit my in the face. Earth water and life in general. There was no substitute.

We arrayed as prescribed and I could feel the indignant eyes of Carida's diplomatic corps on me. But the spiteful satisfaction in my own corps was a lot harder to bear._If it's getting harder to face…_ I had not believed people like that really existed. I had thought they were made up for films or series so toe heroine had something to fight. What in the world could make people act like that, and feel they're justified on top of it? [_Don't let it show._

"We did no know the situation in the fleet was so - dire." The remark was aimed at me, but I refused to be hurt.

Instead I bowed as prescribed, down to the last detail, no more, no less than an ambassador deserved. _Though it's getting harder to take what they say…__._ There was only so many words they could use. There was only so much they could say. I fell into line behind the others, trying to concentrate on my surroundings. Trees don't talk back, and the sky is always blue. Always. _Don't let it show._

The Academy was set in a plain that was surrounded by spiky mountains on all sides. As far as I could see anyway. We were quickly led into a side building and assigned rooms. That was followed by a tour of the place, the politicians way. Instead of training grounds and practicing cadets, we saw the assembly hall, the big hall with even bigger sculptures, and the parade ground, including some kind of min-parade.

I took notes dutifully, making sure my pad added the times. Then we were released until a formal dinner later in the evening. Not that it would be any fun for me. I was of the kind that stood with the back to the wall and watched, making sure the ambassador of the Chimera lacked nothing. I was sure there were some traps planned already.

But before that, I had some time to myself. Since the entourage didn't talk to me anyway, I got myself into my dress uniform and started to tour the facility on my own. It was much more interesting this way. Nobody asked any questions once they noticed my diplomatic uniform, and I was about to get bold and ask some questions. Still, first things first. I found my way back into the hall with the statues. I found a nice spot under one that was probably a man with a spear. Sitting on a stool, he looked down at the ground and was probably meant to make you feel small. I thought he looked funny.

"No copying," I half mumbled, suppressing a giggle. But then, the attendance lists and personal files of the Academy were probably of no interest to the giant. He saw those people all the time. As it turned out, my target was due from an exercise this evening, but the report had the labels 'causalities' and 'injured' attached to it. Maybe I should have a look at the med centre after the formal dinner.

My pad beeped, telling me to get my sorry butt to aforementioned dinner. Oh, joy. I was pretty sure that this time my dress uniform would be the wrong choice, but seeing how I had only jumpsuits and undies with me anyway, there was no real choice. Though, for a second I was tempted to show up just in undies. Just to see their faces. Self-control can be so hard.

Well, there you have another reason why I didn't update here.


	69. 069

Sixty-Nine

There was no morning shout out. Instead some kind of highly annoying alarm sounded through the room and made my teeth hurt additionally to my head. The last evening had not gone well. As expected a load of traps and tripwires had been integrated into my duties, and as expected, I did not even see most of them.

Firstly, I was, of course, the only person in dress uniform. But I had anticipated that and it really was the most fancy thing in my wardrobe. I was also experienced in ignoring people unhappy with my outfit. I had been a scare for old ladies in my best times, not to mention those really skimpy skirts. You dressed like that, you bear the stares. I could do that.

The next thing was that I had really no idea what I was supposed to do. The serving was done by waiters, each kind of drink seemed to have its very own butler, there was really not much to do but stand and stare. And make notes of the order of menu. And completely not realise it's your job to tell Mr. Ahender when he is allergic against some of the food. I mean, hello? Doesn't he realise on his own? How caught up in conversation do you have to be, to forget what you're eating?

Well, another aide stepped in just in time and snatched the plate away under his fork. All I could do was not to burst out laughing. Everybody looked at me as if I had been about to single-handedly kill the negotiator myself. Well, he'd have to get in line for that, because his aides certainly came first.

I had only one bright moment when I managed to intercept a flying, pincer-wielding snack . It was an artistic master-stroke, though Mr. Ahender will have to walk around with a nasty bruise on his neck in the coming days. Also, it is not well-received to put ice onto the aforementioned bruise. Not even, if you went all the way to the kitchen to get really fresh ice. Especially not then, because leaving the room is breaking the rules all over again.

At the end of the evening, I was exhausted. I barely managed to get out of my dress uniform before falling asleep. For the first time, I really hoped I snored and drove my room-mates crazy.

My pad woke me dutifully the morning. The shower was already occupied, and I doubted that I would get a free minute until it was too late. But that was okay. After the dinner there had been a light meal for the aides. Tired as I had been, I still had filled my pockets with some wafer-y stuff. In the morning it was all crumpled, but it did fill my stomach well enough. When the others had finally left, I took the fastest sonic ever before jumping back into my dress uniform and spurting to the day's first meeting.

I made it, too.

Not that there was any disappointment visible in their faces. They were trained Imperials after all. Since the meeting only covered the schedule of the day, and Mr. Ahender was going to have a very private talk with Carida's ambassador Sevet. Or almost ambassador. The real one was currently making plans with the Imperial Ruling Council. I was more than glad that Thrawn had not thrown me into that lion pit. Of course, Furgan's absence made the whole visit semi-official. Not that you would have noticed by the fuss it generated still.

Anyway, with Ahender and Sevet locked up in secret arguments, I had the morning off. Maybe he ate something he was allergic to and died. Would serve him right.

Id didn't even try to find out what the other aides were going to do. I stomped off, knowing very well, what I wanted. "Excuse me, cadet," I simply addressed the first person crossing my way. "Is there a place I can get something to eat right now?"

"Yes, madam," He saluted. It was amazing what the uniform of the diplomatic corps could do. He turned sharply and led me into a side building. He even opened the door into the refectory.

"Thank you," I said. But he just nodded and left again. The food was - well pretty much what I was used to from the _Chimera_, only not that good. I began to love my dress uniform. No matter how strange my behaviour might have been, nobody dared question me. I occupied the end of a long table gobbled down some stew and tried to avoid home sickness while drinking konot tea.

Maybe I was off so much better for not trying to become an ambassador. I would have liked to travel the world and such, but seeing how badly I fared here, it was probably better I never even tried. I didn't speak enough languages for it anyway. Staring into my cup, I wished I had chocolates to go with it and my best friend to talk things through. Not that I had time for that. There was a regular conference scheduled for the afternoon, and I foresaw bad things happening all the way. Taking some sandwiches with me, I found a quite place on the compound and began to learn again.

The effort was rewarded not much later. Though reward would be too positive. The conference itself was not too bad, both parties had gathered in a room, separated by a long table with drinks and refreshments on it. Do I need to mention that only people in the first row had a chance getting at them? I was standing in the last row, taking notes.

Basically each side tried to outmanoeuvre the other. It was slightly amusing to watch, especially since neither side officially represented anybody. It was a bit like my last conversation with Thrawn only much more complicated. Things were explicitly not said, demands were not made and all in all everything was just hypothetical anyway.

Except for the numbers, and there were loads of those. Of course, the number of cadets finishing their training in the Academy would be way smaller than the output of clones. Now Sevet feared for the graduates and their fast lane into the navy. Mr. Ahender on the other hand was obviously not allowed to make many concessions. Graduates were to start out as whatever they graduated for. Fast lane on name and fame was supposed to die out. But nothing of that needed worry Sevet since the current clones were all _needed_ to man the new ships.

So far so good, if only the secondary ambassador of Carida would believe that. Sevet looked concerned, or his version of it. I always got the feeling his hamster had just died or something. "How can we know that the Grand Admiral will not simply increase the output of his production?" he shook his head. "No mass produced item can ever perform as good as traditionally trained crew. How long until all positions will be occupied by deficient personnel?"

"Do not worry, Ambassador Sevet," Ahender replied. "The current number of clones is by no means as high as you fear. There are currently," his eyes fell on me, "how many units produced?"

_And if it hurts when they mention my name…_ "One million, two hundred thousand and eleven clones have so far bee issued," I replied. I knew they would be trying to make me do something foolish, but I had not really expected this approach. Yes, I did hang out with Dave and loved it, but where the new clones were concerned, I showed a disturbing lack of interest.

"Well, that is almost half of the needed crews for the new Dreadnaughts right there," Ahender said. "How many positions are planned for normal crewers?"

"Depending on the mission and urgency, a Dreadnaught can be manned purely with clones except for the uppermost echelons. Since the rate of production can be controlled easily, open positions can be adapted to the output of the Academies," I continued. "Flash training has proven to be unable to substituted for real experiences."

"So you would agree that those - clones don't compare with cadets trained here?"

_Say you don't own me._ As if. "Experience outranks everything," I said simply.

It was not the answer he had wanted, and not what they had expected either. Also it was difficult to argue against, too.

"As you can see," he returned his attention to Sevet, tired of the game as I hoped, "there is no need to fear at all. At the current production rate the crews for the new dreadnaughts will be ready in a few weeks. After that, a new policy will have to be discussed."

Sevet picked up his pad, looking down at it for a while before answering. "I do not think that 'a few weeks' is a period long enough to warrant adjournment of the issue."

And there they went round again. And they kept cashing their tails until late in the night. I was glad that there was not another formal dinner scheduled. Not to mention that at this moment, most of the participants might have fallen asleep with their noses in their food. Me included, even if I didn't get any food.

The aides went to look for help staying away, I guess, but I went back to the room. There I lay on my bed, sending notes. The one to Arn included quite some whining about my current predicament, but I guess that was okay. I had to tell somebody. Jes and Sey got a Best Of Stupid Things I Did in nice anecdote form with the request of some pics. It was easy to make light of it in the letters, way to easy.

I rubbed my eyes and wondered what tow rite Dave. That I missed him. That I wished he'd do shooting practice on the whole entourage. That I would like to have a pic of him - without helmet. That I missed him. I sent the note quickly before my brain had a chance to catch up and ring all kinds of alarms. When in love, do silly things. That I knew at least.

When the others returned, I pretended to be asleep. Well enough as it seems, since they did not let any extra information of my latest accidents and blunders drop. Finally, silence descended and I could go to sleep.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	70. 070

Seventy

_I stand on a meadow, it stretches endlessly in all directions and the sky above is blue. Ever__ything has a somewhat animated quality. I lie down and look up as clouds float by in a soft breeze. My sister comes in and I sit up. She certainly is animated, the hair and summer dress waving in the breeze. She even has those impossibly long legs._

_"We missed you on the holiday," she says and sits down on the bed beside me. Then she gives me a small box. It is completely covered with incredibly colourful sea shells. "You can change any time."_

_I open the box and it is full of shiny sand. In the middle is a milky white stone. I take it out and it shines like the moon. Clutching it in my hand I lie down again and watch the clouds. _

_Anytime?_

_Grass tickles my face and I get up. Still clutching the stone in my hand I start running. Mostly for fun, but also because I have to get somewhere. Change anytime, but into what? I spread my incredibly thin arms as I run and feel the wind on my face. On the top of a hill I leap and embrace the sky._

_He hugs me back._

"Get up."

_I murmur something unintelligible into the crook of his neck._

"Get up."

That had definitely been Dave's voice. Not of any clone, but Dave. Way to wake up, that might have been a really good dream right there. It was slightly light already, maybe I should get up and - grabbing my pad, I had to realise the glow came from it.

Oh.

The monitor was alight and a message was blinking on an off on it. 'Get the boys and get home.'

What the -?

But it was no use arguing. I marked the whole text and pressed 'copy'. The pad shut down.

I got up and into the sonic, packed my stuff, mulling over how I was supposed to do this. I didn't have any authority, no clue and no plan. This would be so much fun. Straightening my dress uniform I left the room, not even caring if my roommates wondered what I was doing. I had a job to do.

First, I needed to get Zeth, and then my ship, provided the _Liberty _was already down here. If not things might get funny. The officer on duty stood to attention as I approached him which gave me some badly needed confidence.

"Get this cadet here with bags packed and my ship prepped," I told him, giving him my pad. "That's the _Liberty_, if you should wonder."

He took the pad and gave me a strange look.

"Is there a problem with my orders?" I wanted to know. I could just hope I sounded as huffy as I intended and not squeaky.

"They are a bit unusual," he reluctantly agreed. It looked as if he was already afraid of disagreeing with superiors. Go, Empire.

"Then put somebody on the line who can approve," I snapped, taking my pad back. But as it seemed, he had been working on one order already. The face of a young man appeared on the screen.

"Cadet 2112 reporting." He looked a little uncertain when he saw me, though.

"Cadet 2112," I tried to sound official, "pack your stuff and report to the _Liberty _immediately. And when I say stuff, I mean all of it, really all." I broke the connection when he was still saluting and turned back to the officer. "About my ship now -"

"I can call Captain Daneb," he offered.

"Do that, I will be on board getting her ready to fly." I waved my pad around. "I'll just be awaiting your okay then."

I felt a bit sorry for him as he went to call his captain, but what could I do? Apart from hoping this pace had no tractor beam in case Captain Daneb was not fond of my idea. At least, the _Liberty_ was indeed on the landing pad. I left the ramp open and put my bag behind the pilot's chair. Then I began the warm-up sequence. It was rather short since the freighter bordered on tiny, but Zeth managed to be aboard before I was finished.

"Cadet-" he began.

"Yes, very well, sit down and strap in, we're about to take off." I shut the ramp and hope that taking off didn't include breaking several laws.

"Yes, Ma'am."

The best thing about Imperials ever, once they accepted you as their superior, you got away with everything. I commed ground control. "So, where's my clearance?" I asked. "Or would you prefer to send it on?"

The officer looked even more uneasy now than he had before. "Captain Daneb is getting back to Ambassador Ahender at the moment," he began to explain, but I cut him off with a gesture.

"Fine." I cut the connection and looked at Zeth. "We're leaving. Any last words?" He stared at me, but said nothing. I shrugged. "Your choice."

The _Liberty_ jump-started from the ground and as I manoeuvred her through the surrounding mountains, the comm. blinked. "You take the comm," I told Zeth.

He nodded, and accepted the call. A man with captain's insignia appeared on a small screen, but I couldn't pay him much attention. I checked the monitors for possible interceptors, but there was nothing. Zeth ended the conversation.

"He said we're clear to go and though he understands your hurry, he does not approve. A reprimand will be filed."

Giggling I steered towards the black of space. "Fine. If you have any questions, you can ask them now."

"What do you need me for?"

"We're going to get your brother," I said.

"My - brother?" Zeth didn't look convinced. "I was told that he died."

"Yep, I can see where that sounds better than 'slaving away in the spice mines of Kessel'," I replied. "Given the circumstances of his arrival, I don't expect him to be very Empire friendly. That's why I got you first."

"And what do you want him for?" There was a hint of brotherly protection in his voice already. Very good.

"He needs training as a Jedi." I could feel Zeth's gaze on me. "By the Empire?" He asked.

"I surely hope not," I agreed. "The current Jedi of the Empire is in no shape to train anybody. I am putting my money on Skywalker. Don't ask me what Mr. Grand Admiral thinks about it."

"Do you have a plan?"

"Nope, so punch the course for Kessel and get your Imperial think tank working. I don't think Doole will just hand him over peacefully because we asked nicely."

He stared at me for a while before executing my order. A catalogue of questions was written all over his face, but he seemed willing to put those back for a while. I didn't know how he felt about suddenly having a brother again, though.

Since I had no idea how this would go on, I decided to send Thrawn a message. I fumbled with the holorecorder, when Zeth suddenly took it from me.

"Your new, huh?" he turned it on and pointed it in my direction.

I just nodded and smiled, then concentrated on the camera.

"Private Morrison reporting," I felt decidedly stupid. "I have appropriated the first target, we are now going to extract the second. Course is set. And I really hope you know what I'm doing, Sir."

I shut the recording off and let Zeth help me send it. "Thank you, Cadet," I sighed. "And you're right, I am new to this. Extracting people from Academies and spice mines is not what I usually do."

"Or sending pre-recorded messages," he supplied helpfully.

I let out a long breath. "Guess I have some explaining to do."

"At least you report to a high authority, that explains some things," he said.

Bless the Empire for questionable procedures right there. I nodded and took a deep breath. "So here's the current stats, as far as I am aware of them," I began.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	71. 071

Seventy-One

After some explaining and a lot more hedging, hesitating and weaving around my history, Zeth finally believed I was an Imperial undercover agent. The most incapable he had ever seen, but an agent nevertheless, acting on orders from the very top of the Empire. At least that much was true and I tried to confirm his suspicions without being really clear about anything.

I guessed I was acting on direct orders of Thrawn, provided I had gotten them right. Provided he had really sent the message or had it ordered sent. I decided not to think about it anymore. I was not here to think, right?

As it turned out, neither was Zeth. The prospect of flying to Kessel was getting worse and worse. I couldn't call on any backup and neither could he. Two against Kessel. I was sure it wouldn't work. So was he.

"I have rarely seen a mission so badly planned," Zeth sighed.

"I don't think any planning was involved at all," I agreed, barely managing not to sigh.

"That does not sound like the Empire at all," Zeth said, some suspicion creeping back into his tone.

I stared into the empty space before me. "It's probably just a test to see how well I work when I can not fall back onto my usually network," I finally said. It was as good an explanation as any. And it made some kind of sense.

"No falling back on the Empire," he mused. "That leaves what? Mercenaries?"

I looked up. _Mercenaries…._

"We'd have to pay them, of course," Zeth went on. "I assume your credit lines have been frozen, too?"

I rubbed my eyes with the balls of my hands and tried to nod. "No credit except what we have on us," I mumbled. "Don't think the ship's worth much, and we need it to travel anyway." My head was spinning as I tried to form a coherent plan from the ideas spinning around in it.

"We have to get money first then," he decided. "Two man con, easy game for an agent." His confidence hurt.

"No," I shook my head, "give me a sec, I am thinking."

Zeth fell silent and I began to sieve through all the outrageous ideas. It was no good. Pen and paper, that was what I needed. Darned future!

"Okay, I'm still sorting this, tell me when I start to make sense." I took a deep breath. "I might have mercenaries that can help, if I find a way to contact them. I have probably payment and Talon Karrde in case of emergency. If he doesn't fall for the official Empire act, we could have the Mandos as back up, timing would be important, threatening enough in any case. Take Kyp and run, capture not obligatory, might be good leverage to get his sorry butt off Kessel, though. Would I want the Empire to run spice mines?"

"No!"

I looked up surprised by his vehemence. "Okay," I nodded. "We can leave Doole on Kessel then. Him or somebody else, I don't think we can close down the mines."

"They should have used the Death Star on Kessel for practice," Zeth said tightly. There was obviously some other damage than having a brother working there. I let the topic fall.

"So, how do I call somebody I don't have the comm code of?" I asked. "Is there some kind of intergalactic directory?"

"There is, but I am not sure, mercenaries are listed," he replied, suddenly all business again. "The more information you have, the better are the chances. We'd have to drop out of hyperspace, for that, though."

I nodded. "Fine, wouldn't want to arrive on Kessel without best laid plans anyway. Let's revert to realspace."

It was amazing how he automatically took the co-pilot's seat. I slumped down and pulled the lever, expecting some kind of objections, but nothing happened. Nothing except the stars reappearing outside the canopy and us hanging in the middle of nowhere. There was a lot of nowhere in space. Throw a pin and you'd hit nowhere in almost all cases.

"Okay, here's what I got," I said. Zeth immediately got to work on the comm station. Good lad, almost reading my mind. Maybe a little bit Force sensitive himself, not enough to make much out of it, but enough to get 'lucky' a lot. "Mandalore, clan Skiarata, I actually don't care who of them, their grapevine should work just fine."

I stopped when I saw his face. Zeth was not happy. "I know them," I tried to explain, "some of them, a little, and they might work for information. If not, Karrde will probably pay for some of the things I know and we can pay them with that."

"You are crazy," he simply said and began a search in the directory. "Well, there seem to be quite a lot of them." He showed me a pretty long list of Skiratas on Mandalore, and those were only the legal ones.

I read the list carefully, but none of the names sounded any familiar. "I'll call all of them," I decided. "I'll leave a message for Jusik or Jaing or anybody at every place and ask them to contact me. Or do you have a better idea?"

Zeth shook his head. "With the data you have, this is the best you can get."

"I'll prerecord a message, or I'll lose my voice halfway though. Can you give me our current coordinates? This is as obscure a meeting place as any." I massaged my temples with my fingers. In case of doubt, act stupid. That should be enough of an identifier of me for anybody.

Zeth turned the holorecorder to face me and I swallowed. But I had promised to do whatever it takes, and this was not the worst that could happen. Not by a very long shot. I cleared my throat.

"Hello. I am Mellanna Morrison and desperate to contact Jaing or Jusik." It was easier than I had thought. The coordinates were real tongue twisters, but other than that everything went well. "Please contact me a soon as possible. Thank you."

I slumped as soon as Zeth stopped the recording. "Do you think I should have thrown some words on Mando in?" I wondered.

"No, it was fine," he assured. "And you're an _Imperial_."

I looked at my dress uniform. No use denying. I took the recording and dialled the first number on the list. This would take quite some time.

I was wrong about that. I had only called about fifteen people, when my comm went of. I accepted the call gladly, and suddenly the screen was filled with a grey armoured Mando.

"You are bothering my clan."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know how to call you." I felt myself blush.

"You are not supposed to."

"I know but this is important," I tried to justify myself.

"Secrecy is important. So, the world is coming to an end?"

"Not really," I hedged. "Only me, most likely."

He moved his head minimally.

"Yes and him, too," I added. "That is Zeth, currently my only help for a mission of extraction on Kessel."

There was a long silence. "You are crazy."

"Yep," I nodded. "And soon-to-be dead, too. But I have something approximating a plan," I added brightly." There was more silence and then I started babbling. Probably worse than what Zeth had had to listen to. Jaing didn't say a word while I tried to make sense, but at on point, when he cocked his head slightly, that hurt. They did it, all of them, it seemed hardwired into their body language. I pushed the thoughts of Dave back and babbled on. Until he raised a hand to stop me.

"Don't move." The connection broke.

"Now that went well?" I glanced at Zeth cautiously.

"I thought you said they were friendly?" he replied.

"He _was_ friendly," I insisted.

"Don't want to meet him when he's being unfriendly then," Zeth said.

"Oh no. No you would not," I agreed. "Since he didn't say if he'd bring a better plan, we might want to start on what I came up with now," I suggested. "Provided you have no better ideas."

"It'll get us killed anyway," Zeth said resignedly. "Your way's as good as any. But if I don't see my brother before we die, I'll kill you myself."

"Fair enough." The assortment of my possible deaths was getting ever more colourful.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	72. 072

Seventy- Two

Since it took some time to get to wherever we were, Zeth and I were making good progress on the plans. We went from 100% probability to fail to 93% percent and finally even 87%. That was pretty good for two Imperials with no backup on an unfriendly planet run by professional villains. I think.

I didn't know how long we sat there making stupid plans, but finally, my stomach protested. "I'll make something to eat," I said and got up.

The _Liberty_ was a small ship, tiny. There were two bunks with enough space between to stand, a shower barely big enough to stand in and a galley. The galley had something that resembled an oven and a tiny table with a seat on each side. You could even stand between the oven and table and turn around with a pot in your hand. Almost amazing.

The cupboards were stacked with canisters of water, the first hint I got that you did _not_ drink water from the 'freshers and something that looked like rations. I opened a few pack and most reminded me of the stuff Luke had with him on Dagobah. I closed the packs and looked fore something you could heat up.

In the last drawer I found something that was supposed to be boiled with water. It was brownish, powdery with bits in it and smelled like jerky. The water just began to boil, when Zeth called from the cockpit.

"Unknown corvette entering realspace," he shouted. "No greetings, they don't reply and are now activating a tractor beam."

"Fine, " called back, stirring some powder into the water. "That should be our support."

"Don't you have any pride?" he wanted to know. "Just getting drawn in like that is demeaning, you know."

"My pride is for free," I called back, "paying for everything I damaged on the way into the hangar is not."

There was an unintelligible noise from Zeth, but nothing more. Honour and pride were all very well - as long as they didn't get in the way of getting things done. No, I really could not afford them now. I stared into the brownish blubbering mass. I had quite some things to get done and I needed to think practical first and foremost. What did I care that some might think it too practical?

Too practical, as if I had not been accused of that before. Me, being the one disposing of my pets in the trash. Me being the one who didn't care if my corpse was disposed of likewise. The least fuss for those who had to tend to my remains, or whatever they wanted. Romance on the beach? With sand getting everywhere? Not for me. Rose petals on the floor? Not for me, at least if I was the one who had to clean away the rose-petal-goo after treading on them. Reading by candlelight? Not bright enough.

Too practical in all respects. I stirred the food which didn't become any prettier for it. And all that mattered in the end was that you could still face yourself every morning in the mirror, right? There had to be a way to forget about honour and still be a good person. There had to be precedents. What about Skirata?

Was I that bad already? That obsessed? Grabbing a ladle, I began to fill two bowls. Was it okay to be obsessed about saving the galaxy? Did it even need saving, or was that just my point of view?

"Oh, great. Imperial rations," Zeth said looking over my shoulder.

I turned and gave him a bowl. "The galley's stacked full with them," I replied. "Better than nothing. Rule One."

"Rule One what?" Zeth asked.

I dipped a spoon into the mass and eyed it carefully. "Rule One: Eat when you can."

"Yes, Ma'am. What else?"

I swallowed the spoonful of goo. It tasted of - something. Salty and maybe meaty, but really not definable. I wondered if that was an improvement to the tasteless white ration cubes of the Clone Wars, but couldn't really make up my mind.

"Rule Two? Sleep when you can."

Zeth looked at me oddly. "Those yours?"

"Not sure, but they are making sense," I replied. "I think loads of people would go by them."

"What's number three then?"

I looked him up and down. "How old were you again…?"

A thud relieved me from having to explain that one. We had arrived. And were about to meet - people. "Meeting up with a bowl of goo in your hand is bad manners, right?" I looked at Zeth; he nodded. In unison, we gobbled up the remains.

I was still trying to swallow the last bits when we arrived at the ramp. Fortunately, Zeth was a very intelligent young man and got the idea of lowering the ramp all by himself. "Twenty one," he whispered, as he took a place at my side.

"Hmprf." I finally managed to swallow as the ramp lowered. Then I didn't say anything for a while because I was busy looking. Three Mandos stood at the foot of the ramp looking at us, neither of them looked any familiar. One wore orange with grey application, another a very dark grey and the last the familiar green. But that was the only familiar thing about them. Maybe, that was not the support?

Slowly I walked down the ramp and came to a halt in front of them. Why had Seros never taught me how to do some first contact kind of stuff? I saluted. "Hi, oya, greetings, su'cuy gar and all that," I said. "I'm Mellanna Morrison and this is my colleague, Zeth Durron."

Zeth made a much better figure saluting. You could see the years of practice he had had.

There was no response from the armoured figures. I guessed they were talking among each other, you'd never know from outside the helmet. I wanted one. Darn it, yes, I wanted one! It didn't matter that even with all the enhancements I'd run headfirst into the next wall with it on. I wanted such a helmet!

I decided to wait until they were finished. I was good at waiting for things to happen and Zeth looked as if he'd had advanced courses in Standing-Around-And-Looking-Military.

"Ke'shekemi!"

I fell into step behind them as they marched off.

"You speak Mando?" Zeth said softly. But I was sure the sensors got it anyway.

I shrugged. "Not really. I'm doing this as it comes to me, and this one was obvious, right?"

"I hope you know what you're doing," Zeth said shaking his head.

I had to grin. "Not really, but I know somebody who knows."

He rolled his eyes and I looked around. So this was what a non-Imperial battleship looked like. Less clean was the only real difference I could see. Not that I minded, all this military precision and neatness could get quite on your nerves. But maybe I could bargain with stealing some mousebots for the Mandos. Provided those were really there for cleaning.

I began to hum under my breath, but the grey one turned his helmet for about an inch and I stopped. Minimalist body language and ma maximum effect. Now that was effective. I stopped my self just before I started humming again. _Nobody likes us_ - indeed not.

We ended up in a small room with a round table from the middle of which a holo of space was projected. Grey and Green sat down with us, while Orange kept standing. "Dajun," he or she said, zooming in on a certain portion of space. I assumed it was Kessel.

"Don't we get to know your names?" I asked surprised. Then I caught myself. "Tion mhi - kar'tayli - gar gaise?" I almost stumbled over my own tongue. There was no knowing how grammatically correct _that_ had been.

"Skirata." They replied as one.

"Okay, okay." I raised my hands in surrender. A happy and growing clan. I got it.

"The plan," Orange repeated and pointed into the holo.

I tried not to be distracted by what I'd call an interesting accent as Orange explained everything but it was difficult.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.

Um…

_Bal ibac cuy jorbe, ni nu'miit'gana olar._


	73. 073

Seventy-Three

Their plan was loads better than ours. I sat and stared at my dangling feet, trying to ignore the shaking of the ship. The bunks had obviously been built with somebody taller in mind. I wriggled my toes and watched the movement of the socks. It was nice to see, though, that their plan was not that far from what I had had in mind.

We would arrive from a completely different angle and that had also the advantage that Zeth and I could get a good night's sleep before setting to work. The _Liberty_ had that tiny space with two bunks and a fresher you could almost turn around in. I had hoped for a meal aboard the Mando ship, but we had to have another of those ration dinners back on our ship.

Using the fresher had worked okay in shifts. It was incredible how well Zeth took the forced intimacy, probably he was used to it from his life in the Academy. I tried my best to emulate his attitude, almost as if neither of us was really there. It worked well enough, but I acceredited that to Zeth. I came upon more and more Imperial traits I liked.

I closed my eyes as another blast barreled past the hull.

"Scared?" Zeth asked.

I shook my head. "Not really. And though this is supposedly my ship, I don't feel anything about it getting beat up."

"Your ship? A good choice for its size. Why don't you like it?"

"It scares me." I looked at him. "Not the ship itself, but what it stands for. The possibilities and the responsbilites it stands for – they scare me."

"Like this mission?"

"Yes," I nodded. "Only worse."

"Why do you keep doing it then?"

I stared at my wriggling feet very, very intently. "If you could improve the lives of millions, billions, trillions – literally half the galaxy," I didn't look up, "and all it would take would be your own hopes, dreams and aspirations; anything you want from life; just give it up and follow that plan. Would you do it?"

"I hope so," he said after a while.

I looked up and his face was very serious. "I try to keep it from spreading," I replied. "Then you won't have to do it, and neither will your brother."

"Will he really be a Jedi?" There was doubt in Zeht's voice. I could understand him.

"One of the strongest for some time to come. But right now he's young and angry – and scared." I fell silent for a moment, looking at my feet again. „He needs to mend before he can grow. He needs you. There is no substitute for family. Trust me."

"They said he was dead and I believed them," Zeth stared at me hard. "I _believed_ them."

"Why not? Did you have a reason to mistrust them?" I asked him.

Zeth shook his head. "They took us by force, I am sure they killed our parents. I should have been more suspicious."

"To what end?" I wanted to know, looking at him. "What would you have changed?"

"I could have found him, saved him," he said. "If I had not trusted the Empire, I would have –"

"Been hindered and maybe thrown out of the army, sold into slavery yourself, found a boring end in some backwater garrison." I shook my head. "You would have been disposed of quietly and efficently. You would never have found him against their will."

"It's not right," Zeth decided. "The Empire -

"There is no 'The Empire'," I interrupted him. "There are people who are responisble for it and the decisions they make are either good or bad, right or wrong; their motives are righteous or selfish. 'The Empire' is just an excuse.

"_We_ are the Empire. If our decisions are good, so is the Empire. Blaming it on the institution is just denying all the things it has done right in the past, all the things good about it. It's refusing to learn from the mistakes of the past and improve the system for the future." I took a deep breath. "Or something," I added half embarrassed about my lecture.

Zeth chuckled. "Loyal Imperial." He mock-saluted.

"In the end everything always depends on the people," I tried to explain. "And that is why it usually goes completely wrong."

"I don't want to be you," he murmured.

"Me neither." I lay back on the bed and stared into the darkness above. It was really a much to complicated way to live, too much responisbility. I wished, I had an Empire to blame things on, too.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A whining alarm woke me and the last whisps of my dream escaped with a scent of musk and metal. Seeing how Zeth was already in the fresher I decided to get into the galley and try yet another version of dry rats. Okay, cooked dry rations. The bars did not only look strange but also smelled suspicious. I would keep them for the case I got stuck on a swampy planet with no way off.

Not that it mattered. When Zeth joined me, the rations had turned into another brownish blob with about the same taste as the other two. Imperial rations were obviously not made to please. We gobbled the food down and washed the taste away with water as well as we could.

"Better get ready now," Zeth said, taking the dirty dishes from my hands. "No place for mistakes."

I nodded and hoped he didn't see how scared I was. I was too young to die. And if this didn't work -. No time to think now. I had to look my best. It didn't take long to clean myself and the dress uniform. I joined Zeth in the cockpit and he made sure my hair looked suitably disarrayed, and that the uniform looked as if it fit only approximately.

"Ready or not," I said glancing at the countdown.

Zeth sat down and put his hand on the hyperspace lever. "Here we go."

The ship reveerted back to realspace and something went 'bonk' very loud only to be drowned out by the sound of alarms. The cockpit lit up in blinking red and the whole ship began to shake. I held on to the arm rests of the co-pilot's chair while Zeth pointed the ship at Kessel's only settlement and turned the throttle on full.

I grabbed the comm and opened all channels. "This is Amabassador Mellanna Morrison, repeat, Ambassador Mellanna Morrison. We were ambushed and ask immediate permit to set down. Please confirm immediate set down."

I clenched my teeth as we waited for the answer, still barreling towards the small planetoid. Suddenly two fighters rose from the ground instead of an reply. I looked at Zeth. He shrugged, struggling to keep the ship under control.

"Kessel, please confirm," I almost shouted into the comm. "This is Imperial Ambassador Mellanna Morrison requesting immediate landing permit. Please comply."

I wanted to do the headdesk when that was out of my mouth. 'Reply' was the word, not 'comply'. If Doole decided to take offence things would be even worse than they already were. If that was possible. The fighters were within shooting range now. Not that we could power up anything soon enough to return fire if they started shooting.

Zeth nodded at me and I took up the comm a last time. Three times' charm. I hoped. "Please, Mr. Doole. I am sure we can come to an agreement that will satisfy both sides." My voice was adequately scared. "I am sure I can help with your problematic relations to the Empire if you let us land. As Imperial Ambassador I have resources with which we can re-establish your credentials."

If this didn't work, we'd be too dead to care.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	74. 074

074

Finally the comm came on with a picture, albeit an ugly one. Seemed I had forgotten that Doole was not human, though I am sure that it had come up in the briefing somewhere. I swallowed. A bald green head stared at me with whitish eyes, well one eye really as the other was hidden under some kind of glasses-substitute, and an expression I couldn't even start to read. At least this put the possibility to use female guiles on him to a very sudden end. I hoped. Very much.

"Ambassador Morrison, you say?" His voice rang with suspicion.

"Yes, Sir. I am so glad you finally replied. We –"

He cut me off with a short gesture. "You will land, and we will talk." He measured me up and down and seemed disappointed. Phew. "I will evaluate your offers."

The comm went dark and the fighters snapped into escort position around us. Cutting the connection, I let my shoulders sag. "Step one, accomplished," I sighed.

Zeth just nodded, obviously not used to a colleague who broke down like that after the initial skirmish already. I couldn't blame him. All I could hope was that I was convincing enough for Doole. Rehashing the story in my head, I assumed my scared attitude might work in my favour, if I didn't overdo it. Imperial Ambassadors were not scared. Ever.

At least, I was a badly shaken Ambassador in dire need and a probably insecure position. That should explain some of my uncertainty away. The rest – I took a deep breath, the rest was all my problem. Do, or do not; but I could only try. Sending out a quick prayer to Clan Skirata, what other otherworldly organisation did I have to ask for help anyway?, I straightened my shoulders as we set down and strode past Zeth. No, not Zeth, pilot guy, I needed a pilot guy, I mean, I can't be expected to fly a ship myself, can I. And such an ugly bucket, too? I am an Imperial Ambassador, buckets of bolts happened to _other_ people.

Armoured guards with huge showy weapons waited for us at the foot of the ramp. I brushed past them towards the exit where Doole stood in all his green glory. He really shouldn't wear orange vests with that complexion, but what the heck. "Mr. Doole," I sputtered. "I am _so_ glad to finally meet you." Extending my hand, I ignored the guards that rushed after me. Do or die. "After all those tribulations it is certainly a pleasure to be among civilised beings again."

Doole watched my approach warily, but let me come within an arm's length. "I am not sure this is an honour, Ambassador Morrison," he replied. Obviously, the Mandos had kept their part and changed some Imperial infos. And obviously Doole had checked it.

Retracting my hand a few inches I cocked my head. "I understand your reluctance, Mr. Doole," I assured him, "but I am certain we can make this situation a profitable one for both of us." Profitable was the right word, his eyes lit up.

"How do you plan to go about it?" he wanted to know. "I see you have arrived with limited resources."

I shortly turned my head to glance at Zeth who stood a little apart. "As you might know, we should be on our way to Bimmisaari, but our convoy was attacked." I stopped myself. "Pray, can't we discuss this in a more dignified surrounding?" I pleaded. "Discussing things of this importance in passing is way below us."

For a long moment he considered the idea, then he took my arm, which I immediately shook free again, and led me away. I didn't dare to check what they did with Zeth. I wasn't supposed to care anyway. "This is so demeaning," I told Doole with a annoyed shake of my head. "One moment, I am on a mission to Bimmisaari, to bring back the planet to proper Imperial control, they have defected, you know, so I am sent to bring them back to their senses. But, what do you know? Instead –"

"The Republic won't be happy with you poaching in their preserve," he interrupted me.

"Obviously," I almost snapped, but before I could ramble on, he opened a door and we entered his office. A poor person in carbonite showed his tortured grimace, one that made me think he was probably happier frozen like that. My seat was, of course, facing it. Doole had a very subtle style, indeed.

"So the Republic attacked you?" Doole asked. "It doesn't sound like their style."

I ran my hand through my hair. "Not directly the Republic. It is indeed not their style. They keep up pretence of civilised manners. No, we were attacked by Mandalorians." I had no idea how I managed to spit the word out as if it was a huge hairy spider. "We had a special – gift aboard our convoy, it might just have interested them. But we both know that those half-baked bucketheads never act without getting money for it.

"They dropped us out of hyperspace and before I know what's going on, they have boarded all our ships. You should think there are combat regulations against this." I sighed dramatically. "In the hurry, I had to leave everything behind, the wardrobe, my shoes, everything. Even my hairdresser, can you believe it? Not that I need on now. With this – atrocity of a haircut; nobody can salvage it. I had to dress up in this horrible uniform so they wouldn't recognise me as the ambassador. It certainly makes me look fat."

I paused just long enough to take a sip of the drink that had appeared miraculously while I was talking. "Would there be a chance of refreshments, too? I can't remember the last decent meal I had." I looked imploringly at Doole. "After grabbing the next best pilot, I fled from the carnage. Most of their ships were docked to ours otherwise that ugly freighter wouldn't have had a chance." I leaned back again, shaking my head. "It is not even equipped with food. The _goo_ I had to eat. You wouldn't believe it! It is no wonder the troops fight so baldy if they get fed with that rubbish."

Taking another sip of my drink, I wondered how long Doole would let me babble. My throat was already getting sore. "And then, just before we can go to hyperspace those shields give in. And we get hit just as we jump. The Empire should reconsider its choice of alarms, too. I got a bad headache from the blaring and those flickering lights. But what could I do, that crate doesn't even have a _lounge_."

The door opened again and refreshments were placed before me. I took one, regarded it for a long moment before deliberately biting into it. I closed my eyes. "Now _that_ is much better!" It really was. Zeth had pumped me full of every antidote known to Imperialkind, but I felt uneasy eating this. Still I finished it with a second bite and reached out for the next.

"You must excuse me, Mr. Doole," I said stopping myself. "Here I am gobbling down your food like any peasant. I really should have waited for you as the host to start." I pushed the plate over to him, trying to look grateful, expectant, and greedy at the same time.

"No need to apologise," Doole replied with a thin smile.

I hid swallowed the lump in my throat with another piece. "You are too kind." I took a sip from my drink before wolfing down the next bit. "You just never know how much you should appreciate good food until you don't get any."

"You were talking about a profitable understanding." He folded his hands on the table. "I am listening."

"Of course, of course." I looked for a serviette, but found none. "As you can see, the ship is in no condition to go anywhere. That is where we need your help." I smiled at him in a hopefully winning way. "In return I can offer you to smooth down any – troubles you might have had with the Empire in the past." I could see that this claim was something he liked. Not that a full-fledged mutiny was actually a minor trouble, but that had not been my idea.

"And how do you intend to achieve this, Ambassador Morrison?" He leaned back and steepled his fingers. Unfortunately, it looked rather ridiculous compared to Thrawn or even C'baoth doing it.

"An Imperial Ambassador has his resources," I tried to sound smug. "You do not rise to this position without having certain – friends. Friends who owe you," I added meaningfully.

"What is it you offer specifically?"

"Well," I leaned forward consiprationally, "let's just assume this friend has access to sensitive data and the ability to – tweak it a little. I am sure the small trifle of your sudden rise to administrator of this facility will be no problem at all."

"And you can guarantee that this will happen?" There was a threatening undertone in his voice that scared me.

"Of course," I purred. Yes, I did that, and I did feel silly. But it seemed to achieve – something. "Let us assume that aforementioned friend also has a weakness, easy to exploit and even easier to bribe."

"How fast would that work?"

"That depends." I made a deliberately long pause. "If I was to leave directly from here, as fast as a week. Of course, that would depend on you."

"On me?" He was wary again. "What are you aiming at?"

"Oh, nothing really, it's not as if he was into spice." I laughed and that was good, because the face he made when I mentioned his precious drug was priceless. "So you need not worry there. Instead he likes to surround himself with boys. Unfortunately, they never seem to last very long. I would have to find something suitable, about fifteen, he likes them in a difficult age. If you could spare one of the slaves, I am sure I can groom him into acceptable shape. Thin won't be a problem, I wager." I dared to wink.

"Is there anything you can achieve from here? It's not as if I an let you go again on rosy promises." He showed his teeth in what was probably supposed to be a smile.

"Of course," I agreed. "What about this, I will make a call, claiming a small favour I am owed, and then we wait while you repair the ship." I saw him bristle but held up my hand. "You might want to repair it anyway, if only for your own use." I smiled again. "And within the day you should find yourself many ranks lower on the Empire's Most Wanted list, plus the bounty on your head being removed. How does that sound?"

"There is a bounty on my head?" He sounded genuinely surprised.

"You didn't know?" I feigned surprise, because the bounty on his head was just a few hours old. It would certainly have been difficult to maintain his position, if a real bounty had been placed on him. Silly lies, but they didn't have to hold long. "Maybe you want to check on that first?"

He nodded, and the door opened. Not to let him leave, but to have me evicted. I had the wits to grab the platter with the remaining refreshments and my glass before I was dragged out and away. At least, he was considering my words now, I hoped. As it turned out, Zeth had spent the time in a tiny cell, in which I now joined him. I sat down pushing the plate towards him.

He smiled lopsidedly and began to scan the food with what _seemed_ to be a simple stylus. Then he shook his head. "All accounted for, dig in."

I stared at the food and with a sigh began to finish it off. The irritated and irate Imperial Ambassador making the best of her situation. I just hoped Doole would not get to see the neat lines of bumps covering my right leg. Immunisation was a great thing, but it tended to leave visible and painful marks on me.

"At least they taste good," I sighed.

And that is the reason I didn't update here.


	75. 075

Seventy-Five

For the longest time nothing happened. Zeth and I sat in silence, waiting for something to happen, hoping for this to work, saying our prayers in case it didn't. I wished I could sleep, it's what I do when there is nothing I can do. Sleep and hope it's over when I wake up. Only this would not be over at all, no matter how often I woke up. Or maybe, it was, and I'd leave Zeth alone in here to die.

I watched my feet intently, trying not to think about what would happen if I indeed woke up at home again suddenly. Everything I had worked for would fall apart. Zeth would die, Kyp might just die, not to mention the whole of Clan Skirata in their zest to wipe out Palps a second time. Had I messed up anything else?

Before I came up with any more depressing things, the door opened again. A guard motioned me to get up. "Master Doole will see you now." He made it sound like a threat. Maybe it was. But if it was, it was for me only. Zeth had to stay.

He shrugged microscopically.

Doole was in his office again, and I was seated again so that I had to look at the carbonite. The image of the man trapped in there had not improved since my last visit. I folded my hand and tried to look impatiently patient.

"You will get your call," Doole said. "Under my supervision, of course. Depending on what you can achieve now, I might consider to help you out." I was not sure if he tried to grin or leer.

"Thank you Mister Doole," I replied formally. "Can I use your comm or should I go -"

"You will not go anywhere," he interrupted me. "And you will not betray me either." He produced a nasty looking blaster from below the desk. "I have read your files, Ms. Morrison, and I have been thorough." I think this time he went for a leer. "I will not be made a fool of."

I swallowed and looked at the blaster. I think it was the first time a loaded specimen was trained at me. Trained at me by a lunatic who wouldn't think twice about killing me, too. I forced a smile. "As you wish, Mister Doole. I appreciate a counterpart who thinks."

Following the wave of his blaster, I took up position in front of the comm. "You might want to move out of the field of vision," I said not looking at the Rybet. Then I punched in the code I had painfully memorised. While the connection was made, I went through my hair again, and smoothed out my uniform.

Suddenly the screen winked on, showing a small part of a luxurious room. In the middle an elderly man lounged, his shirt glittering in the light and half opened. I felt I should know him, but memory failed to serve me. A young boy flitted into the image, handing the man a cup and leaving again, his motions betraying fear.

"Mellanna," the man's voice was smooth and deep. "What a pleasant surprise. The ministry is currently preparing a moving ceremony for you, if memory serves me right."

"Well, news _do_ travel fast, Carnet," I replied smiling. There was no way for me to know what his name really was. Not that it mattered. "But I rumours of my death are wildly exaggerated - as yet."

"Tell me about it," he said, taking a sip from his cup.

"I am stuck, my dear, and all I need is a little help, your help as you most certainly have descried." I cocked my head slightly. "I might _just _forget about the Ithorian incident, too."

Carnet straightened up a little. "Now that would be _nice_, would it not. It's been such a long time ago." He put down the cup. "What do you need?"

"My ship is in some disarray," I began, "but a friend of mine could easily amend that. Unfortunately, there is an Imperial bounty on his head."

"Too bad indeed. And well worth forgetting that incident," Carnet grinned.

"That is not all, I am afraid," I went on. "But of course I realise I would have to pay you a visit in return for that. Let's say with a present?"

"How big?"

"I am not sure," I winked conspirationally, "it has not yet reached its full size."

Sinking back into his chair again, Carnet picked up the cup again, stroking its rim thoughtfully. "You are a temptress, Mellanna," he sighed. "You taste is - impeccable. So, what is your other problem?"

I took a deep breath. "Let's just assume a working ship will not get me away from the place I am stuck. I would need permission from the _persona non grata_ to the Empire. We cannot have that, can we?" I batted my eyes a little and smiled.

"No, we can't," Carnet smiled thinly. "And you are right, a present would be I order for services like that. And maybe an IOU."

"We can discuss the latter when I bring the former," I replied. "Though, did I ever disappoint you?"

Carnet looked me up and down, a whole insinuating encyclopaedia written all over his face. "Not yet." He smiled again. "I might just give you another chance to, though."

I smiled back and thought of Dave. A lot. I just hoped it showed. "I would be looking forward to that."

"When do you need those favours?"

"Remove the bounty now, leave the rehabilitation until I call you again." I let my tongue wander over my lips slowly. "You wouldn't want anything to happen to me now, would you?"

He winked at me. "Understood, my dear. When can I expect your company?"

"I don't know how long the repairs take," I replied. "But I would say, I'll call again soon."

"I will be waiting, but so will you." He winked. "Only for an hour or so." Then the connection broke.

I closed my eyes for a second and nodded to myself. All I had to do now was get Doole to hand over Kyp and leave. And after the first part of the scam, I was still alive to try that. Good work so far. If only it was over already. I was shaking inside, but couldn't show it. Placing another smile on my face I turned to Doole.

"Will that be an acceptable agreement?" I asked. "I will, of course, make the second call while still in the system, but far enough away to avoid - trouble."

"I see you are thinking for yourself," Doole said and motioned me towards the door. "You can spend your time doing right that now. Until the repairs are finished, regardless of wether your gambit works or not."

The guard brought me right back to the cell. Only this time I didn't have any food with me.

Zeth looked up resignedly before setting back into stand-by mode. I wished I had good news about Kyp for him, but Doole hadn't mentioned anything about contributing to the plan so far. I would have to reconsider my approach on that subject. It would be very inconvenient to be taken prisoner by suddenly attacking Mandos and _not_ having Kyp aboard.

I tried not to get distracted by the headache creping up on me. It would only get worse until we got out, and sooner or later, I would get stomach problems, too. Putting my head in my hands, I concentrated on thinking.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	76. 076

Seventy-Six

Thinking didn't help any. I could only think of things that went wrong. I had no idea how to make Doole hand over Kyp except for asking nicely. I could try, but somehow I doubted it would work. Especially, if I threw up all over the Rybet. I considered just vomiting into a corner of the cell, but the idea to be stuck for an unknown time in the room afterwards was not one I liked.

The headache was showing warning signals for bad migraine. This would so not be fun. Maybe I became unsound of mind and in my insanity did something sensible. Stranger things had happened in this galaxy. If only I was a real character here. Those always got away somehow. Not that they knew themselves, I mean, I was sure they were scared, too. So what? I was thinking in loops again.

"I was trained to be the cavalry," Zeth said suddenly. "It feels wrong to sit here and wait for it."

He looked wretched, and not only hungry. I bounced the back of my head against the wall and tried to envision the cavalry storming Kessel. We'd make it off, for sure. Dead or alive, that would be the question. No, cavalry was not an option.

"We won't need them," I assured him instead. Maybe he believed it, that would make one of us. "I'll handle Doole and you take care of your brother. No problem." I smiled and he retuned it. So was I radiating confidence now? I didn't know, I hoped so. It was easier to work with people who believed that the task at hand would be a success. Maybe he was just playing along to make me feel better. I knew why I didn't like to be the leader of a group. Not that my opinion was much in demand. Unlike my person. The door was unlocked again, and off I went.

Doole looked rather smug as he sat in front of his frozen trophy. "Your friends are working fast," he said. "Let's keep it that way."

I sat down in one swift motion, more because a sudden attack of migraine had me than anything else. "Yes, let's," I agreed. "How long until my ship is functional again?"

"A few hours," he replied. "But you'd have to do better than a week for your follow up work."

Nodding thoughtfully, I made sure my head was still attached to me. "As I said, I could speed up if I didn't have to boy-shop first. Also, a present from you might go miles with Mr. Deloval." I smiled and placed my hands palm down on the table to stop its shaking.

"I need my workers," Doole said shaking his head, too.

All that shaking made me dizzy on top of my headache. Slowly, I got up walked around the table and crouched down beside the Rybet. "What makes you think you have a choice?" I asked him, smiling up.

"You are in no position to bargain." he snorted.

"Really?" I took his hand and examined the three fingers. They were ugly, but had an opposed thumb which was said to be something important on the ladder of evolution. I grinned at him, stood up and dropped his hand. "It's your call, of course, but I'd be careful."

I stopped to study the frozen man, tracing my finger across the carbonite. It didn't feel cold at all. When I heard the chair scrape over the ground, I turned sharply. Ignoring the general uproar that caused in my head and stomach, I levelled a finger at Doole. "I asked nicely last time. I won't make that mistake again. And don't you think those feeble attempts at poisoning me will gain you anything!" I had raised my voice in the hope to drown out the urge to vomit. My finger shook slightly.

There was no reaction. What had I expected. It was like a child threatening a robber without even a toy pistol. With the difference, that Doole had a weapon. Suddenly I found myself looking into the muzzle of a blaster.

"Who'd ever know?" he asked, smiling faintly.

I rolled my eyes. "Carnet Deloval is not stupid," I declared. "He'll use this incident to get back on the good side of some people. Imperial politics are _complicated_. Several dozen of people are currently wondering how to make this unexpected turn of events work in their favour. You might kill me, but that would certainly open up the ground for a lot of possible favours. Most including your head on a silver platter."

Raising my hands in surrender I chuckled. "Kill me if that helps you any, just remember to toast on me when the Imperial fleet drops into orbit." I stared into the blaster again. "I'll take you with me, Doole. If I die, so do you."

Ambling back to my chair I sat down again, watching Doole think. It might take some time, but that was fine. My dearest wish was to curl up somewhere and die. My skin had begun to hurt.

Finally, he lowered the blaster and sat down again. "You are bargaining hard, Ms. Morrison."

"That's why I am an Imperial Ambassador," I replied. "I get what I want. One way, or another."

Behind me the door opened and I got ready to leave. So I would actually do need the cavalry in the end. Too bad. I turned and to my surprise a row of young men filed into the room. They were all extremely skinny and dirty. I approached and looked them up and down. How the heck was I supposed to tell who was Kyp from this lot? I had hoped to have Zeth with me. Brothers should recognise each other even after years of separation.

"Sorry lot," I murmured, "but I'll make one do." I grabbed the chin of the one nearest to me and turned his head. Under all the grime, his hair seemed blonde, so not Kyp. I let go again. Another was definitely older than fifteen, stubble covered his chin. Not Kyp either. That left three possible candidates.

Dark hair and dark eyes, or was it blue? I should have paid more attention. Taking the next chin, I was almost bitten into the hand. A guard rammed the handle of his weapon into the boy's back. He stumbled but didn't fall.

I looked at my hand and back at the boy. "Spirited, huh?" I asked Doole. "I bet he's a lot of trouble."

"But still alive after seven years in the mines," Doole rumbled back. "Almost worth the trouble."

I took hold of his chin again. Dark hair, dark eyes and still not broken; sounded Kyp-like enough. "I'll take him."

"He'll be trouble," the Rybet warned.

"I know. But tied up, not so much." I grinned mischievously. "Trust me, Deloval will like him. Spirited is just his kind - more fun to break."

The boys were hurried out again. I was not sure what to do next. But, like _deus ex machina_, a guard entered the room to usher me away as well.

"Improve on your schedule," Doole called after me. I managed to nod without my head dropping off. The room I was brought into was different, a little bigger, including a bed a table and one chair as well as some food and a little water.

I flopped down on the bed, barely registering Zeth standing in a corner. "Got him," I whispered, clasping my head between my arms. "Got him."

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	77. 077

Seventy-Seven

I guess I spaced out, because the next thing I remembered was Zeth shaking me frantically. My head and stomach were still doing whatever they considered most painful. I only hoped that this was finally the time we left and I got pumped with antidotes. Or at least some painkillers. Friggin powerful painkillers.

I got up in time to be ushered out by the guards. I took it for a good sign that Zeth followed. Either we were dead or out. Either way the headache would end soon. It was probably a bad sign that I didn't really care which way it ended.

After a while we arrived at the hangars. That meant I had done it, if I didn't screw up at the very last moment. The _Liberty_ looked a lot more like a bucket of broken bolts than the _Falcon_ ever could. Black scorch marks covered its hull, and though I couldn't be sure, some parts looked as if something had been ripped off and not reattached.

"Will it fly?" I wondered out loud.

"Of course," Doole assured immediately. "And she won't even fall apart until after you set down."

Now that was inspiring confidence. I nodded absent-mindedly, watching as a guard shoved hopefully Kyp up the ramp. "Put him somewhere in the cargo section," I called after him. "Is there any place we can lock?" I then turned to Zeth.

He shook his head, but his eyes told me that for once, I had not screwed up and really put my hands on the right guy. Primary mission objective comp - well almost completed. We still had to get away in one piece.

The guard returned and reported to Doole that Kyp had been secured behind a barred door. Better than nothing. It would be embarrassing if he ran away before we could sort things out.

"Now, Ambassador Morrison," the Rybet peered at me from his one eye, "you will have free passage off the planet. I will watch you while you make that call of yours, of course. Just to make sure you don't accidentally do anything - foolish."

"That is too kind of you." There was no hint of sarcasm in my voice. I was too busy turning thoughts into words though the jelly-clotted cotton-candy that called itself my brain. "I will just make the call from a position that allows me to jump to hyperspace any moment, and after I finished, we will both go our happy and separate ways."

He gave me a small receiver. "I will be listening."

I nodded as I took it. "It has been a pleasure to deal with you," I said extending my hand. He took it an the long-fingered hand felt utterly alien in my grip. "Get that ship started," I ordered Zeth without really looking at him.

"Have a safe journey." Ihe tone in Doole's voice worried me. It sounded as if he said it despite knowing it would not happen. I would have to be extra careful.

The engines of the _Liberty_ started up and I went up the ramp not looking back. As soon as the door was closed, I steadied myself against the bulkhead and stumbled towards the cockpit. Flopping down on the co-pilot's seat I grabbed the controls. Zeth jumped up and returned half a minute later. Something cold hit my neck before he even sat again and I felt my headache recede. He gave me a couple of pills and added another two shots through my arm. Since he had his hands full already, Zeth hadn't brought any water. After glancing around, I got up.

"Sixty seconds, tops," he said. So I sprinted into the galley, grabbed the next container and some more ration bars that looked as if you could eat them the way they were. I had just finished gobbling down the pills when we were in position. I used the small device to open the additional channel to Doole. Then punched the comm code.

The screen went on, showing Carnet again. In the dimmed light around him, his hair looked darker than before, his features seemed softer. And with a sudden I realised why he seemed so familiar. It struck like lightning and hurt as bad. My favourite uncle. I almost called him 'Kalle', too.

"Carnet, my dear," I managed to get out. "The good news is that I am in space again." _What the bleep was good about that? "_Mr. Doole has kindly kept his word." I couldn't see anybody pursuing us. _I shouldn't have to worry about the figments of somebody else's imagination._ "You can start working on our little project now." _Did my uncle worry for me?_

Zeth signalled that fighters had started from the surface. Either we had to be fast, or hope that the hyperspace signaller did it's work and called somebody down on us. Doole didn't play fair, but neither did we. _Why did nobody pinch me awake?_ "It would be nice," I continued, "if you waited for me for the final execution. I wouldn't want to miss a moment like that." _I don't wanna - I don't want - _I didn't know what I wanted._ I didn't want my family to worry._

"As you wish," Carnet leered and it felt all wrong. "I shall await your company impatiently."

I forced a smile, still trying to find an answer when he cut the connection. I wanted nothing more than to send a message home and tell everybody I was fine. I wanted to see my family and friends, didn't want to lose those I had here now. I couldn't leave my plans unfinished, but seeing how I wavered already, could I hope to want to go back in the end? Of course. Not, of course.

"Are you okay?" Zeth looked worried.

"No. I'll go and free Kyp."

On my way I tried to shake the thoughts of my uncle. But I could just see him in the kitchen of his house, laughing with my dad and cooking up some new dish. I wondered if they laughed now. It hurt to think they didn't. It hurt to think they did.

It turned out that 'barring' the door meant to shove a few empty crates in front of it. If Kyp had wanted to leave, he should have had no trouble. I hope the guard hadn't knocked him out. He hadn't. Kyp stood, glaring as I approached and as soon as I was within reach, he spat at me. Hit the face, too dead centre, very good aim.

"Thanks a lot, Kyp Durron," I grumbled. Then I whipped out the vibro knife. "Now, if you'd just hold still so I don't accidentally cut off any vital bits while - " My eyes fell upon the shackles. A knife would get me nowhere with those.

"Oops." I said. "Now that's bad." I put away the knife and reach for the cuffs. "If I may…?"

I didn't even get a grip on them before Zeth called through the comm. "Mellanna, one frigate inbound. Your turn!"

I had almost forgotten. "Copy," I called taking a step away from Kyp and a deep breath.

"Moruth Doole, Mr. Doole, can you hear me?" I half squealed. "They have found me. I don't know how - they just - please, Mr. Doole. We will turn the ship around. Please grant us shelter."

Shots whizzed past the hull on cue and the _Liberty_ shook badly. With a sudden jerk it got caught in a tractor beam.

"Two more ships incoming," Zeth shouted happily, "taking course towards Kessel."

Wonderful. Doole would certainly keep a low profile with that kind of opposition. "Mr. Doole?" I let the stress I felt turn my voice panicky. "Please, Mr. Doole, reply!"

"Taking us out with ion cannons now," Zeth informed me. The flickering of the lights and stuttering of the engines emphasised his point. One more time. I opened the comm channel again. "Please, do not let me-" the energy went out and everything fell into silent darkness.

I crouched on the ground hugging my knees, trying to stop the shaking. It was all over now. Everything was good. I rocked myself, swallowing and controlling my breath. We were saved. All clear, Mandos to the rescue. Still I couldn't step back from the brink of tears.

Suddenly, something touched my back and then fell over me. It hit the ground with a low thump. "Kyp?" I called. The stupid boy had probably tried to attack me in the darkness. "Kyp, are you okay?"

There was no answer. "Oh Force, Kyp! Zeth, don't we have friggin flashlight on this crate?" If I added another word, I'd cry. I had heard my voice break while shouting. Why didn't things get better now? They should. It was all over now. I should be all happy smiles.

In the distance a flickering light approached slowly. I reached out, my hand touched what was to thin for a leg, but probably still one. I took a deep breath, swallowed the hiccough.

The _Liberty_ set down with a shudder and the emergency lights went on just as Zeth entered the cargo hold. I looked at Kyp who, to my relief, was not lying in a puddle of his own blood. But he looked very confused. A glance at Zeth showed that those two were in need of a brother-moment a lot more than I was in need of a good cry.

"I'll talk to them," I said and got up awkwardly. "I'll just-" I didn't finish the sentence as I left. It was like being on automatic. My legs brought me to the ramp, my hand punched the lever to lower it. At the bottom stood a Mando whom I did not try to suffocate in a bear-hug. Good self-control so far. Still I felt as if my bones were shaking in my body.

"Thanks," I began. "That was, I don't know, I mean - thanks. Really. The boy, shackles, needs a lock pick." I shook my head trying to make sense, when a hand descended heavily on my shoulder squeezing it hard. It almost hurt.

I let my eyes wander up the arm attached to the hand and somewhere between elbow and shoulder realised he was wearing grey armour.

"I just want to fall apart," I whispered. Then I took a deep breath and ran my arm over my eyes , and forced a smile. "Kyp has been shackled and I have no keys. He'll need a lock pick. Zeth needs a five course menu, come to think of it, so does Kyp. He also needs a shower and something decent to wear." I sighed.

"I'll grab some ImpCaf and have a look the _Liberty_ over." From behind I could hear the brothers approach. "Be kind to Kyp," I added. "He's scared and angry."

Jaing looked over my shoulder, measured the two young men and stepped past me. "Kyp Durron?"

Judging by the sound of his shackles, the voice had given Kyp a start. I closed my eyes, happy with the approximation of privacy, that gave me. The cuffs clattered to the ground, followed shortly by the shackles. Mission objectives accomplished. It was all over. Why did I still feel like breaking apart?

The hand took hold of my shoulder again. "We will talk." There was no real chance at resisting the applied pressure, so I went ahead.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	78. 078

Seventy-Eight

The urge to break down receded as I walked down the corridors and my world focussed nicely on the pressure on my shoulder. Almost painful, surely helpful. The anxiety also ebbed away, slowly but steady, as if somebody found the plug, and now it drained out of me. It made me feel tired and sad and very cold for some reasons.

With a small change in pressure, Jaing steered me into a small meeting room. I sat down in a chair facing the door, I think he chuckled. Something golden caught my eye as he went by and sat down at the head of the table, with the door well within his field of vision, too.

I folded my hands on the table, my fingers were incredibly cold, and wondered what to do next when the door opened again. A green armoured Mando came in and put a tray down in front of me. Next to something that looked suspiciously like a sandwich it had a jug of water and an assortment of pills. I looked from the tray to Jaing, the other Mando and back. "Been talking behind my back, huh?"

"You are brimming with positively everything," Jaing replied. "The first aid your friend gave you was a good start but nothing more."

I sighed. "Thanks." Then I poured myself a glass of water and began to methodically swallow meds. After three I looked at Jaing again. "You might as well tell me, what this will cost me," I said, picking up a yellow monster pill.

"You save our _shebs_, we save yours."

Before I could stop myself, I cocked my head in their tell-tale way. "I did?"

He activated a small beamer that was set into the table. The image was half-familiar, but I couldn't really place it. "It seems some of our ancestors ran into the aliens that freak you out so badly."

I could have been Vong-ish. I didn't really remember what they looked like, except for humanoid and with - ridges? I studies the image. "Wow. That is unexpected."

He nodded and some more images flashed by. "Countermeasures are already started," Jaing said. "More information would be useful."

I began gulping down the meds again, trying to think. "Right now, my brain feels pretty mashed," I replied sheepishly. "But I'll make sure to note everything that comes back to me. Did I mention the ExGal station somewhere in the Outer Rim already? Should have an employee called Danni Quee."

"We already narrowed down the possible planets to a manageable number."

My, they were fast. And effective. I stared at my sandwich before wolfing it down in a few bites.

"We are also keeping our eyes on the females that are possible matches," he continued.

Munching in silence, I nodded. "Everything covered I can currently think of."

"What about Byss?" He shut of the display.

"Dave has everything covered," I answered. "We're having a team infiltrating the installation."

"Trustworthy?" Jaing tilted his head.

I swear it was that gesture. He might just have spelled it out in long complicated sentences, but right then, I didn't feel hungry anymore. Rather the opposite. Of course, Dave sent somebody who he trusted. And being who he was and what he was that meant - I balled my hands into fists. Of course I had wondered why I had only seen three of them; Dave, Fi, and Lyk; but I hadn't been thinking again, had I? No, I hadn't, not one bit. Taking a deep breath I tried to come to grips with the fact that Dave's last squad mate was currently about to die on Byss. "_Osik_!"

"A choice you don't agree with then?" Jaing asked.

"Worse," I shook my head. "I understand it, support it and still don't like it. He sent one of his squad."

It didn't seem to surprise him at all. "Foreseeable, and a good choice. You are aware of the micro-tracker implanted near your spine?"

"Yeah," the sudden change of topic was nice but still hurt. "I guess you can't remove it without turning me into a vegetable."

"We can't," he agreed. "We could try to shut it down instead."

The idea was - appealing. I would be able to run and hide after all. Find some unimportant planet, live an unimportant live. No more bothering about galaxy spanning politics, no more galaxy spanning politics bothering me. People like me shouldn't have to do it. All I wanted was to curl up under my blanket sleep. Be weak. Weak, weak, weak! People like Dave, like Thrawn, Jaing, even Arn, they were strong, they were meant to change the future. Not me. I shook my head. "It's okay."

"You better get some sleep now." It sounded almost soft, vocoder or not. He stood up and I stared transfixed on the golden armour plate on his leg. This was too much. Too big for me, there was nothing I could do. I'd make a pretty big Mando-failure, but it was okay, there was no daddy around to prove anything to anyway.

I couldn't take my eyes of the plate as Jaing walked up to me, putting his hand on my shoulder again. I almost didn't feel it. I reached out with my right, hesitantly, shaking, but stopped about an inch before actually touching it. _Too much, too big, to small, too weak._ I felt the tears rise. _Nothing to prove, nobody to prove it to_. I balled my hand into a fist instead and got up.

"Don't!" I raised my hand, opening the fist again. "Just don't, ignore it." Hugging myself I turned to the door and began to walk. I would be okay, sooner or later, and except for the tears, the crying didn't show at all. I would be okay. I held my breath.

If anybody we met found the image of a crying Imp steered by a Mando strange they didn't show. I was helmets provided a wealth of privacy, not only for the wearer. Not that I felt as if I could stop any time soon anyway.

"Thanks," I said again, just before the door to my small cabin closed. My bag was sitting at the foot of the bunk. I ignored it. Instead I went into the sonic and turned it up to the highest setting. It efficiently tore the tears from my eyes which felt right and wrong and strange at the same time. I didn't care. I just waited until I felt able to go to be without drenching my pillow. It worked.  
Eventually.

.

.

.

_I'm in the wood just up the hill behind the building company. Hiding out behind a boulder I watch the Guardian of Time that stands a little downhill. The gate is already activated. I wait. The sun streams through the canopy, I can smell the ground and the trees. Astonished, I dig my hand into the dry leaves on the ground. They crumble between my fingers, a small twig drops back down. I am home._

_Some people stand next to the Guardian. I don't know who they are, cannot identify any of them. They whisper softly with each other. I inhale deeply; beeches and pines. In the distance, hooves thud over the ground, approaching. Maybe the ground shakes with the sound. A huge black horse comes into sight, a real monster. But it has to be since it carries Darth Vader. _

_I know he will ride through the Guardian - I know I must stop him. I open my mouth to call out, but I can't make a sound. Trying to force the air out doesn't help any, I open my mouth wide - no sound. My fingers grip the boulder desperately, I lay my head back into my neck. I cannot make a sound._

_He vanishes through the gate and the ocean closes over me. My mouth fills with water, I try to swim upwards. My throat fills with water, my lungs, I want to scream but only swallow water. Paddling frantically, I try to reach the surface, but the armour pulls me down._

Suddenly, my hands got hold of something as blinding light hits my eyes.

"Shh. _K'uu_r. Hush."

The air rasped in my throat as I inhaled deeply and opened my eyes. I stared directly at the man who was not my uncle.

"Are you okay?"

"You're not my uncle," I sobbed and recoiled from him.

If only he had not looked so sad. "No."

I curled up in the far corner of the bed, hugging my knees. There I was right back at crying, when I had thought I was through with that for a while.

He turned around at the door. "I'm Drunn Collet."

I rocked back and forth until I fell asleep again. And this is the reason I didn't update here.

* * *

Very special thanks go to Phoenix023. I was only looking for a picture of Jaing in arnour when I stumbled about an image that gave me so much more. *hugs*  
Ori'vo'e, vod! *hugs*

And here's the picture: .com/art/Brothers-All-132854740


	79. 079

Seventy-Nine

When I awoke, I felt exhausted. Not really tired, but empty, like a rechargeable battery, only without the recharge. Simply lying in the dark was fine. I didn't have anything to do, anywhere to go. I closed my eyes again and luxuriated in the sensation of not having to do anything. It felt great.

After a while my body demanded attention though. There was only so long you could lie down after downing a litre of water the evening before. Well, as it turned out, the 'fresher here didn't have water for the shower. It was a pure sonic. Probably some kind of efficiency that didn't go well with my desire to stand under hot water for an hour. Maybe that was exactly why there wasn't any.

After getting into a fresh change of clothes, I felt almost human again. I sat down on the bunk staring at nothing. I didn't want to go outside. I didn't want to check on the Liberty, the Durron brothers or even bother Jaing with questions._ (Where was Mird?)_ I did want to talk to Dave, though. Not that I knew what to tell him. I took my pad from my bag and turned it on. I still couldn't send any messages. Instead I listened to Arn shouting his morning message. Over and over again. I didn't listen to the waltz.

My stomach grumbled but I ignored it, though there were sandwiches somewhere aboard this ship. Good sandwiches, too. Very tempting. Maybe they also had tea. The image of a group of Mandos enjoying an extended five o'clock tea came unbidden. Cucumber sandwiches - now that was an idea.

With a sigh I put the pad back. I couldn't stay in here forever. I might have liked to and leave the work to somebody else, but come to think of it I really couldn't. 'Duty, Ms. Morrison,' I could hear Arn's voice echo in my head. Frag duty. I just wished -

- before I got the chance to violate the ToS, the door opened. Apparently, privacy was not an issue here. Zeth walked in followed by Kyp who seemed to be hiding behind his brother.

"Morning," Zeth said. "You okay?"

I nodded. "Fine. And the two of you?"

"Good. Are you sure you're fine?" He looked me up and down as if searching for something.

"Sure," I nodded again. "Why?"

"Well," Zeth was clearly uneasy. "It's just how you bawled all through the ship last night. I would have come, but Kyp..." He let the sentence trail off.

"Oops." What could I say? I hadn't realised that the shouting I had not managed to do in my dreams had been real still. "Sorry, just bad dreams. I probably had a bit too much stress." I forced myself to smile and change the subject. This was _so_ embarrassing. "They treat you well?"

"Yes," Zeth said, obviously happy to change the subject, too. "And I told him everything." He laid a hand on Kyp's arm.

"Sorry about the mess," I smiled at Kyp. Clean and dressed properly he looked very young and fragile. "There was no time to let you in on the plan."

He nodded, never letting me out of his sight. "It's okay."

That was all I would get in the way of an apology, I guessed. It didn't matter. "How's the ship?"

"Being repaired," Zeth answered again. I wondered if Kyp just didn't feel like answering or if it was me. "I don't think they want us to stay long."

"No, they don't," I agreed, getting up. "Do you know where I can get something to eat?"

"I am surrounded by gluttons," Zeth sighed.

I understood what he meant when Kyp shamelessly kept me company when we reached the refectory. There were sandwiches again and I stacked my plate with them. Then I hunted down some tea and something that looked like a spheric banana.

Zeth watched us eat and didn't seem willing to talk. I felt like intruding on them. And maybe I was; I guess I was. They were brother reunited after many years and I squandered their precious time with sitting around and slurping tea. I excused myself as fast as I dared and began to wander around the ship. It was not as big as a Star Destroyer, but still huge enough to get hopelessly lost in. Not that it would matter. I scratched my neck sheepishly.

In a way it was reassuring. No matter where I went, what I did or how lost I got, I would never be really alone. Somebody would come to find me. On the other hand, if nobody came, it was all my fault. I had outgrown my usefulness. Right then, I didn't feel very useful, just an asset wandering around not knowing what to do or what it wanted.

I came upon a double door that silently slid apart as I approached. Behind it I found a gym. How had I come to join up with people that felt the urge to work out wherever they were? I was laziness incarnate. I used to be. I wanted to be, I guess. I wasn't really sure.

The gym was empty and I lazily did a few exercises just because. Then I closed my eyes and went through the First Form despite having not a single stick. It was calming. And when I was being true with myself, this was not so bad. From all the day-dreamt self-inserts it was okay. I could have gone to Middle Earth which was lacking modern hygiene; not to mention ice-cream. Or the vampires. In the long run those lacked ice cream, too.

I sat down with crossed legs, resting my hands on my knees. Any other big daydream I had missed? One including major changes to earth, that was. Murdoc was fine but too close to reality. ST could have been the other really fun experience. I smiled as I easily conjured up the images of my other life there. It was still unscathed by my experiences here. Watching T'Kuth rise with my feet firmly rooted in the sand - _Tahma, where are you now?_ It was so easy. All I had to do was decide when I was. Who would come to collect me? Sarek approached from behind, putting a hand on my shoulder...

"_Gar ara'novo!_"

My eyes snapped open and when I turned and looked up a young woman stood behind me. She looked friendly enough, but she was not alone. I glanced around. I was sitting all alone in the middle of the gym. I blushed.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I'm off."

I resumed my aimless walk through the ship. There was no place for daydreams here. And I should have stayed and learnt something. Oh bother. I was so fed up with doing what was right and sensible. Right and sensible from my point of view, that is. Not that I knew what else I wanted to do.

I wanted to see Dave. I wanted to talk to Arn.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	80. 080

Eighty

I didn't know how long I had been walking through the ship. It was getting boring and it bothered me to have no goal. I wanted to go to the hangar and see how the ship was. But somehow, no matter where I turned, there seemed to be no hangar in sight. And nobody had bothered to hang up signs saying 'hangar' or eve 'stupid Mels go _this_ way'. It couldn't be helped, and really, what was it other than admitting who I really was.

I stopped the next Mando I met. "Excuse me...?"

"No."

Oh, that again. "Okay, then don't. Would you please tell me how I get to the hangar from here, anyway?"

He didn't move for a long moment, then he nodded. "Next turbolift down all the way, second to the right, first right, double door to the left."

"Thank you." I hesitated. "Say, if I used some snatches of Mando'a when talking to you, would that be viewed as preposterous, stupid or trying to be nice?"

"Yes, it certainly would." He turned to leave.

"Well, thank you," I called after him, half laughing. Be who you are, do what you want, I liked the idea. And the directions did bring me to the hangar. The _Liberty_ stood slightly apart from the other ships and judging from the sounds coming from its direction it was being repaired. Again. This time I was more optimistic about the outcome.

The ramp was lowered and a nasty stink came from the inside. As it turned out somebody had removed most of the inner plating, laying the mechanics and other interesting stuff free. Some of it I recognised, most I had never seen before. The upper torso of a young man rose out of the innards of the ship.

"Can I help?" I asked. After all, it was my ship and I should be doing something to get it back into flyable shape.

He gave me a distracted glance and shook his head. "Almost done here. Just sealing a few leaks and redirecting the power." He thought for a moment. "Ask Ruusaan, she said something about idiots playing with the power couplings."

I followed the direction he indicated with his head, wishing for a helmet to hide my blush. That 'idiot' had probably been me in my attempts do learn something. It was something I certainly would not tell Toris.

All I could see from Ruusaan was boots coming out of a small crawling duct. "Is there something I can do to help?"

"Yep," came the surprising answer. "Get out of the way, we're in a hurry."

Oh. Not so surprising after all. I nodded though she couldn't see it. "Okay." I wished I was more capable where my ship was concerned. I was not good for anything with it, not even flying it, really. I went into the small cabin and dangled my legs. For a while I just watched my feet. I considered lying back and staring at the ceiling, but the busy noises sounding through the ship made me feel guilty just thinking about it.

In the end I decided to just get up and look at the assortment of fighters. If I was pitifully uninformed, I should be using any chance I had to make amends. The fighters seemed to be bigger the X-Wing, though it might just have been because they were bulkier. From outside I couldn't see much, yes, they had weapons, but I couldn't distinguish an exhaust port from a missile launcher. I ran my hands over the metal absent-mindedly.

The hangar seemed to go on forever. I couldn't see where I had come from any more, a maze of ships blocked the way. I considered going back, but there was nothing waiting to be done. I laid my hand on the nearest ship. Like most others it looked used, but well-maintained. I really needn't worry about getting home.

_Home_.

I leaned against the hull of the fighter trying to disentangle the word. I meant the _Chimera_, but when I used it consciously, I still meant my old home. Was it normal to adapt so fast? Was it just me? _Home is where the heart is_. But my heart tended to be with people, not places. Did that make things easier or more complicated? There were surely enough people I liked on the _Chimera_ to call it home. But what about Jaing? Or Luke, though I hadn't met him at all. I surely liked them. Did this make this whole galaxy home?

A noise like a giant degu scrambling over a baking tray approached. If that was true, could I ever be really at home in any place? You can't take the sky from me, but here, even the sky was full of places. Suddenly a flurry of gold bounced around a ship and barrelled directly at me. Its smell preceded it. Wow.

I crouched down and the animal came to a surprised halt an inch from my face.

"Hi, Mird," I said, tentatively stretching out my hand.

It growled and showed some impressive teeth. It also had horribly bad breath. It made me sit down spontaneously and it was good I was already so low. "You really stink, Mird," I told it. "So it would be okay if you bit my hand of now. It would make me concentrate on something else."

"You confuse him." Jaing stepped up behind the strill. "Usually people run or take a defensive stance."

I blushed. "Sorry." I looked at my hand still dangling before Mird's snout. Actually, I didn't really want him to touch it. Washing off the smell might take forever. I began to retract the hand, and it let out a low growl. "Looks like I am owned now." Its jaws closed around my hand.

"Sorry, Mird." I gently pulled at my hand. "You'll have to fight out that claim with his Grand Admiralship. I don't even own myself." I tugged again, but the strill didn't react. "Will I have to go anywhere?" I asked looking up at Jaing. "I am not sure when I can move again."

"Mird!" The strill reacted immediately and went to his Master. The way it rubbed against his legs reminded me of a cat. "You are leaving," Jaing added in my direction.

Wiping my hand at my trousers I got up. It was so soon, I hadn't expected that. "Okay." I followed him back to the _Liberty_, wondering if there was anything I should say. The complete lack of small talk was nice, but still somewhat worrying me. "Sernpidal, that's where some of it will start," I said. "And you should be able to meet a Solo or Skywalker there. It's just a vanguard I think, the rest will arrive in other places. Maybe Bimmiel, they had some people there long ago. I think retaining the bones is important to them."

There was a microscopic nod from Jaing.

"And the Sith Lord who would loosen the plague on Mandalore, Darth Caedus," I hesitated, "he's Jacen Solo. It would be good if his turn could be prevented rather than terminating him. I really wish I had something more useful."

"We know where to find you."

It was hard not to chuckle. I wanted to thank him, but was - again - at a loss for word. I really should give up writing once I returned home. For a moment I considered just hugging him, but this embarrassment was averted when the _Liberty_ came into sight. Zeth and Kyp were already waiting at the foot of the ramp. Kyp looked slightly less worried and hungry than I remembered. Zeth looked more worried instead and I could guess why.

Mird was still slinking around Jaing's feet, watching the Durrons with wary eyes. Kyp looked back uncomfortably. Zeth handed me my bag and I turned to face Jaing again. I didn't like to say goodbye.

"Maybe we'll meet again in a less precarious situation," I said.

"I doubt it," he replied.

I looked down at Mird shortly. But friendship was just a point of view anyway. "That's okay for me," I smiled.

He nodded and because I couldn't think of anything else to say I turned and went up the ramp. Zeth and Kyp followed and quickly overtook me when I turned back again at the top. So this is goodbye. I punched the controls before I changed my mind and said something very stupid.

By the time I got walking, Zeth had already lifted off and slowly steered towards space. I cam to a halt behind the two seats, each occupied by a brother.

"You sure have a soft spot for them," Zeth said, punching in the hyperspace coordinates.

I shrugged, being acutely aware of Kyp watching me in the viewport.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	81. 081

Eighty-One

I stared at the stars in front. Any second now, any second, there'D be a comm call. That's how stories worked. It was always in the last possible second. My muscles tensed, and then the stars elongated and we entered hyperspace. I let my shoulders sag. No story for me. Maybe I should have called myself Mary, like a self-fulfilling prophecy.

"Drop us out of hyperspace somewhere save and contact the Empire," I told Zeth. "The _Chimera_, if possible. Ask them for instructions."

Then I left the cockpit for the 'fresher. Trying to wash off the stink of strill was not easy. It was actually, rather impossible. I tried water with soap, more soap and lots of scrubbing. Then holding it under the sonic for some time and since that didn't help, either, I went at if with water and soap again. In the end my hand hurt and glowed in a pretty red. And it still smelled of strill.

When I returned to the cockpit, Zeth turned around. "Contact successful. The _Chimera _sent coordinates for a meeting."

"Good, anything interesting?"

"No," he shook his head. "Dead space close to the Ukio system. Nothing interesting there."

"Okay, set the course and then I need to talk to you. Both of you." Coming to think of it, that might have come across more ominous than it really was. I sat down, trying to hold my right as far from me as I could. When the brothers arrived, they tired to do the same, only with a lot more success.

"Sorry about the smell," I said. "I hoped it would go off easier."

"So, what about Kyp now?" Zeth asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, that's the point. I don't know."

"You don't?"

I shook my head uncomfortably. "I can sure make suggestions, but I don't think I am the one who decides in the end." I shrugged. "So it might be good if we agreed on a way to take and stick to it. Maybe the chances of making it work will be better that way."

"What do you want?" Zeth sounded suspicious. Kyp almost glared, though he seemed a bit too scared to.

"Me? I'd suggest a small boarding school someplace quite," I replied. "A place where you can catch up on education and won't be confronted with all of the galaxy at once," I added in Kyp's direction. "I don't think a military academy would be the right thing for you."

"I don't want to be in the military," he agreed. Throwing a side glance at his brother he almost winced. "It's not - right for me. I don't like to obey."

"That's okay," Zeth assured him immediately. "There's no need."

"I think some peace and quiet would be good for you," I went on. "And then, there's the bit about getting you some Jedi training."

"Me?" Kyp asked back. "Why would I need that?"

"Because, like it or not, you are strong in the Force," I said. "And I don't want you to accidentally run amok with such powers. You need to learn how to control them."

"And if I don't want to?" He crossed the arms over his chest.

"You'll end up a second Palpatine." I looked him in the eyes. "I don't want that."

He hunched his shoulders. "Don't want to be a Jedi."

"As if you had a choice," I sighed. "You can't stop being Force-sensitive. All you can do is decide if you want to control the power or not. My advice is, control it. Know what you do and don't accidentally wipe out those who you like most."

"I - I could do that?" He was intrigued.

"Yep," I nodded. "Killing people is easy."

Kyp looked at me, as if I owed him yet another answer. I wasn't about to give it to him. If he wanted to kill people, that was his problem. As things stood, I didn't think he'd be able to any time soon.

"We will take care of Kessel," Zeth spoke up. "It has long been a -"

"Zeth," I interrupted. "As long as the Empire is run by the people in the Council now, nobody will stop Doole. They all profit too much from it." I rubbed my forehead. "First, the war must stop. Then - then there are so many changes necessary, I don't even know where to start. Getting the Jedi Order back is just one thing."

"The Empire -" Zeth began again.

" - is a corrupted mess," I finished for him. "The structures as they are work fine, but mostly in the military. The political branch is hell. But that will have to wait until there's some kind of peace that allows to work on the inside."

"Is that what you want?" Zeth's tone was accusing. "Change the whole galaxy?"

"Yes, it is." I hugged myself. "The whole galaxy, one man at a time."

"You'll never finish," he commented flatly.

"I know!" I snapped. "Don't you think, I don't know? Gawds. All of this might amount to exactly nothing. I know. But that doesn't mean, I should stop trying. Somebody has to. If not me, who then? Why should anybody else care?"

They looked at me as if I was a bomb about to explode. I took a deep breath. "I can't stop. Might as well try to stop the stars from burning. And I'm sorry if you feel like pawns because I don't mean it that way. I want you to be happy."

"But it would be nice if we could be happy in a way that helps you?" Zeth didn't sound convinced.

"Can't blame a girl for trying," I shrugged. "As I said, I don't have much influence, so I do what I can. Even if I have to boss around people."

"Or try to," Zeth corrected me.

"Surely, try to," I grinned. "And I hope to be improving."

"Not really," he said. "I would suggest you take courses in rhetoric."

"Great," I murmured. Seros would not be happy to hear this after all the speeches he had me deliver. But I was not ready to give up yet. "In which case I'll just have to try harder."

The discussion was long, very long and heated. After what seemed to be ages, we finally came to a solution which looked pretty much like what I had suggested at the beginning. Parallels to my former life were clearly visible.

I left them to come to grips with their fates to make something to eat. And also, to leave them together. They would be separated again soon enough. I wished I could see my brother. He had no idea how much I cared. I had no chance to tell him now. I wanted a second chance, just as they had it. Yes, I did envy them.

'Tell everybody how much I care' had become the number one item on my to-do list for the time I returned. Maybe it would feel awkward and silly, and maybe I'd make a huge idiot out of myself, but it was important. Not only for the others, but also for me. To know the other knew - I had underestimated the importance of it.

"You're not Imperial for very long, are you?" Kyp asked after dinner.

"No," I shook my head, "not long at all."

"Do you," he hesitated, "if you could, would you do something else?"

"I'd like to," I tried to laugh. "But I don't see it coming any day soon. As long as his Grand Admiralship allows me my delusions of grandeur and the possibility to change the future - no chance. But," now I hesitated, ""I wish, I could do something irrelevant again. No consequences, just fun."

"That can be helped." Zeth produced a deck of cards. "Can you play sabacc?"

"No," I had to admit.

"Very good," he grinned.

I don't think my abilities improved much in the following hours. I lost the _Liberty_ several times over. Instead I became proud owner of Coruscant, a herd of banthas, and Hutt-sized diamond with an image of Jabba's rear engraved on it. Making things up to up the ante was almost more fun than actually playing. I didn't think, I have been that silly since I arrived.

The hyperspace clock finally ended the game. We went to the cockpit, and without talking about it, I stood behind the seats again. The moving chaos of hyperspace suddenly became black space again and the _Chimera_ loomed above us.

She was beautiful. I really, really loved her. She might be a huge lump and the biggest accumulation of repairs in progress ever invented; a waste of space and personnel without peer and a black hole for Imperial credits, but there was a sense of belonging, if only I had no other home. It held a promise of order and security. And, not least of all, it held about everybody I knew personally in this extremely huge galaxy. It did feel good to come home.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	82. 082

Eighty-Two

It _was _coming home. When the ramp lowered and I left the ship, I felt it in my whole body. Some strange elation, a lightness and heady satisfaction. The hangar glowed in Imperial greys and it smelled of technology and durasteel. So this was what I referred to as home now. I didn't have any objections.

The welcome committee consisted of Arn and some other officers I had never seen before. True to my assumed role as secret agent I came to a halt before Arn and saluted sharply. Still I was unable to stop grinning. "Private Morrison reporting back, Sir. Mission objectives completed."

Zeth snapped into a salute behind me, looking a lot more Imperial than me. Kyp somehow managed to hide behind him.

"Acknowledge, Private," Arn replied. I wondered how he managed to keep a straight face. "Cadet Durron, report to the quartermaster."

"Yes, Sir!" Zeth saluted again and left, escorted by the other Imperials and with Kyp in tow. I looked after them for a moment, trying hard not to worry.

"Welcome back, Mellanna." Arn's features softened and he started to grin. "I am pleasantly surprised by your success."

I snorted. "No wonder. Was there anybody who thought I'd achieve anything?" I laughed. "But it's good to be back."

"I was indeed doubting the Grand Admiral's judgement in this," Arn replied, leading me away. "But I am glad I trusted Dave's assessment and put my money on you. The rewards are more than enough to make the next shore leave a very pleasant experience."

"Get me a nice bring along," I teased. The way his expression changed indicated that by the time he'd get his next shore leave, I'd be long gone. I looked at my hands. "Drink to my health, at least."

"Will do," he said. "And it's not so bad. You're just pretty much a full time job."

"Got it." I let my shoulders sag. "It's just," I hesitated. If you don't tell, nobody knows. And there were so many I never told and who would now never know. I thought of my brother for a second, then everybody else I knew. No, I didn't think any of them really knew. I sighed and took a deep breath.

"I just want you to know that I like you." There. I had said it and I was still alive. "I mean, really; you're a good friend and I appreciate that. I like having you around and the day I leave, I will miss you."

Arn suddenly looked at lot younger again, again just a young man out of his depth. "And?"

"I'm trying to apply a lesson all this," I waved my hand around vaguely, "has taught me. I need to know that you know. There is no second chance." So I had made a big idiot out of myself, but in the end, it should be worth it. I hoped.

"Just forget it," I added. "You only need to know when I'm gone."

Arn shrugged, still looking rather helpless. "I don't think you'll be going anywhere soon. The war is entering the critical phase about now."

Chewing on my lower lip, I mulled that over. Time to do or die. Or something like that. I was glad when we reach my quarter. "I'll write you," I winked. "Promise."

He left laughing. It was a nice sound.

I walked into the tiny coop, I called my room. Home again. I laid down on the bunk and closed my eyes for a while. Home! I just had to get up again and do - things. Opening my reserved shelf, I opened the box of tea and inhaled deeply. Then I buried my face in my blue shirt. Still cradling it against my body, I turned on the comp and plugged my pad in. The new schedule started only tomorrow. I had a whole evening off. And I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

Placing the things back in their places, I grabbed my pad and walked off to the gym of the 501st. I say walked, but it was probably the fastest walk possible that you couldn't quite call a run yet. There was one big question as yet unanswered. I wondered if praying would help. Because a whole gym full of members of the 501st meant nothing if Dave was not among them.

Just before I reached the gym, I slowed down to catch my breath. Ridiculously self-conscious, but I couldn't help it. There were only a few people in the gym, even fewer of them clones. He was at the very back, training with Fi. I felt the grin spread all over my face as I made my way towards them.

"I'm back," I simply said when I reached them.

Fi didn't reply, but Dave tilted his head slightly. I could have hugged him. Not that I knew if that would be appropriate, he didn't make any move, so I stood a bit too close to him for a while trying not to look embarrassed. Not that he seemed to notice.

"Are you ready to train?" He also seemed unaware of Fi leaving us with a huge grin plastered all over his face. But did I care?

"You bet!" I grinned. Having my hands all over Dave was the next best thing I could think of. The trouble was, that this time, I had to earn it. To improve my defensive skills, Dave came at me fist first and I had to block the hit and counter the attack.

"Just try to hurt me anyhow," he smiled. Obviously, my abilities to do so had not improved the least since Day One. Bother.

Unlike the martial arts training I knew, there was no space for errors here. After demonstrating the technique, Dave left it to me if I managed to stop his fist or not. It was amazing how fast you could become after taking a punch because you were to slow. It hurt. Bad. The only reason why Dave hadn't knocked me out was probably because he was holding back. Killing me accidentally might not sit well with his Admiralship. So instead I was just seeing stars and actually heard them ring, too. Big, bad ouch. But it worked. I blocked the punch, or at least got out of the way in time from then on. I was sure to have black and blue bruises all over my forearm, but it was so worth it.

"You are too close," he chided. "You're just getting into your own way."

"I'm trying not to," I replied. This criticism was nothing new to me. I tended to do it because, if you were a rather small girl, it worked well. So far, every guy had backed off almost automatically. On top of this habit of fighting in a very close distance, there was this incredible urge to just throw myself at Dave. Nope, keeping a distance was not easy.

"Too close again." His other arm fell around my shoulder and held me fast. "How could you possibly hurt me now, Mellanna?"

I could feel the muscles in his throat move as he spoke. I really liked the way my new name sounded from his lips. That was something I could definitely get used to. I didn't want to do anything right then. I felt rather good.

Not that Dave cared. He increased the pressure, almost strangling me. There was nothing much I could do. My arm were pinned before me and I couldn't move away from him either. Not that I wanted... That left only my feet. Okay.

I got ready to cling to Dave, then I took both feet off the ground. As expected, he let go, but I managed to get my arms around him without falling. At the same time, I rammed my heels into the hollows of his knees.

To my extreme surprise it worked. Just in time, I got my arm out under him, but for the life of me, I couldn't think of anything else to do with them as we hit the ground. For a long shocked split second I stared down at Dave. Then I found myself secured against the ground looking up at him. He was so close and I could still move my head. So close. I stared at his lips. But I am a chicken. And the difference between a chick and a chicken is that I didn't close those last few inches.

"Almost good," Dave said, smiling. "You need to keep moving, though."

Instead I kept staring. It had been just me being me again, nothing out of the ordinary. I was like that and there'd be another opportunity soon. It was really not that I was hedging. Really, why should I?

Dave got up and extended his hand to me. I took it. It was not as if he wouldn't notice. I mean, how could he not? I was really making excuses again. Being me, my eye. I would always be me, but that didn't mean I was the same person I had been years ago; months ago, even. I looked at Dave.

"Are you okay?"

Even he noticed it. Who was I fooling? Not even me. So why?

_But those answers are still lies!_

"I'm not." I tried to smile. I failed. Dave was Dave. Charming to the bone, Imperial as sin, capable fighter and sudden death. But no way he was going to take any first steps. I closed my eyes. Was I being fair?

"Just hold me," I whispered. I think it was the first time I ever said that to a guy. To my amazement it worked just fine. Maybe I should have done it before.

_Lay your head down on my shoulder, human everything but free_

It was the best place, the safest place in the galaxy. The safest place ever. Or it would have been, if Dave had held a loaded DC-17 behind my back, but I was willing to let it go. I could feel the rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of him against me and even the beat of his heart. Not to mention that with my face buried against his chest, he smelled fantastic.

_we are victims of our instincts, _

I felt his breath in my hair. I didn't want to move. I just wanted to close my eyes and forget about everything.

_feel the sunset I foresee_

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

* * *

**Note**: The lyrics ar from the song 'Human' by Behind The Scenes.

Here's a link in case your're curious: .com/watch?v=KtlB00UdIDY


	83. 083

Eighty-Two

I only want to say,  
If there is a way,

_Todd Eldrege is figure skating to Gethsemane*. One of my favourite performances.  
I skate over the ice, amazed by how easy it is. Normally, I can't move a step backwards, but now, I glide over the white surface without hesitation._

_  
_Take this cup away from me  
For I don't want to taste its poison.

_He is not so far away, moving over the ice, too. The white of his clothes, too bright, dazzling, blinding. I don't want to get near him but I know I have to. The figures demand it. And still I know he will burn me, kill me with his white light._

Feel it burn me,  
I have changed.  
I'm not as sure, as when we started.

_No, I am not sure at all any more. Everything changed. I had changed. It is true. But there is no choice. My course changes, and the he comes closer. I can feel the heat rise, I will burn, burn alive. Without a choice. So I get ready for the jump, brace myself against the pain and reach out with my hand._

_An inch before the spine I stop myself. There are rows and rows upon shelves in the library. The light is dimmed and it seems endless. I know I need to know everything written down here. If I don't know it all, everything will fail. I retract my hand and stare down the corridor. _

_Books everywhere, their scent is overwhelming. All the knowledge in the world. How am I to learn it all? But I have no choice._

_I take the huge book and haul it to the next table. It is almost as big as I am. With care I open the cover and try to read the never-ending story. But I can't read in my dreams. It never works, it doesn't work now. I try to make the letters come together in word, and arrange them in sensible sentences, but I fail, I mustn't fail. If I fail, all will end. I bite my lower lip in concentration._

_Everything blurs in dull grey swirls with black and red smears. It's not going blind or seeing blackness; it's seeing nothing, really nothing..._

_._

_.  
_

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!! _

Why was it, that when you wanted to sleep long, you were woken early, but when you were finally allowed to sleep long, you got inevitably bored? The echoes of a dream lingered in my mind, but I couldn't grasp anything but the scent of books and white light. That wasn't too bad, I liked books. Getting up, I realised that I hadn't held one since coming here. I was most likely missing them. The taste of blood was n my mouth and a look in the mirror showed, that I must have bitten my lip for real. A dark red, almost black line ran along my lower lip. At least, It didn't hurt anymore.

Also the neurodermatitis that had taken the chance to return. My right hand was still red and sore. Washing it so hard had been a bad idea. I sighed and decided to go to the med bay before breakfast. Absent mindedly I scratched at my palm as I downloaded the day's schedule. There was training with Arn, a debriefing with his Admiralship, time for lunch, an unfortunately long lesson with Seros and then shooting exercises. I was so back home.

Medic Greras looked at my hand and turned it in all directions. "It's not neurodermatitis," he decided. "It looks like an allergic reaction. Have you been in contact with any substances you have not encountered before lately?"

I was tempted to start laughing. What, that I had touched in the last few days, had been something I had already known? About nothing. "Almost everything," I replied, "and I think I was thoroughly poisoned as well."

He raised a brow but didn't say anything. Instead he took a scanner and moved it over my body. "Residue of several toxins," he nodded, "nothing serious, but cut out chocolate for the time coming and you should be fine."

"How many days would 'time coming' be?" I wanted to know.

He looked at me as if I was stupid. "Like, for the rest of your life?" He seemed to enjoy my shock. "Six months."

If I hadn't been so relieved, I would have choked him. How could he? But he was already examining my hand again. "Do you remember any acids? Contact with wild carnivores? Fluids from any of a ship's systems?"

"I touched a strill," I said. "Actually, it held the hand in it's mouth."

"I need a sample." Before I realised what he was about to do, he had nipped a bit of skin from my hand. That hurt. And - before I could even start to think of swearwords to call him, he sprayed a pinkish substance on my hand.

"That should reduce the swelling and stop the itch - turn your hand over; good." He sprayed some more and it began to look as if my hand was being covered under a thin layer of pink cotton candy. "If the itch returns take this." He gave me a small device that looked like half a bracelet with a handle.

"And then?" I turned the device over in my hands.

He sighed. He took it back and put the bracelet part against my wrist. "Inject." He returned the injector and put a bag over my hand. That would be a very inconvenient day. And how would I look with a bag over my hand. It was see-through, too. My hand looked even more freakish in it.

"Hold still." He took another device, held it to the bag and suddenly it shrank around my hand like a glove with a nasty sizzling noise. "You can use your hand normally now," Greras said, looking satisfied. "I will schedule another appointment when the test results are ready."

My hand still looked funny, but I could indeed use it like normally. It did make strange noises, though, when I balled my fingers to a fist, squeaking rubber fart, if I ever heard one. Unfortunately, it also squeaked when I curled my hand around my mug, when I picked up a knife or shook it in annoyance.

Arn let his gaze rest on the glove for a moment. "You couldn't just return from a mission without catching anything, could you? I hope it's not contagious."

"I'll make it so," I growled back and tried to threaten him with my pink hand. It didn't work. He blocked and started a counter attack. So much for taking things easy. But I got my sticks back and he showed me a new sinawali. It was nice to work out again, I hadn't thought it possible that I might miss it. Who knew, maybe I would like my lesson with Seros, too. Okay, that was too much optimism, even for me.

And there was the debriefing to get through first. Since I couldn't find courage in chocolate, I tried every other dessert I could find instead. But it just wasn't the same. Still I made sure I had nothing stuck between my teeth. What was there to fear anyway? As far as I knew, I had done a good job. And if Thrawn didn't think the same, I would blame it all on his inadequate briefing before my hasty departure. If I dared.

I straightened as I went through the antechamber. There was no sign of Rhukh. I wondered briefly if he'd forgive me. But that would have to wait. Thrawn sat in the double ring of displays which displayed tactical displays. Great. I would have preferred works of art, it made the whole setting more comfortable. He most likely knew, so what did the tactical displays tell me? Bother.

"Agent Morrison reporting back." I saluted and it did feel acceptably crisp. If you disregarded the atrocious pinkness of my hand.

"Indeed." He leaned back, studying me. Probably searching for the other patched up bits. His gaze did not linger on my bagged up hand, though. "Semi successful, as reports show."

"Semi?" I caught myself just before shouting at him. What did he expect? Had had gone and gotten a Jedi to-be without any Imperial help, and nobody had been killed in the process.

"You are aware that C'baoth is aboard," he said coolly. "What were you thinking when you brought the brothers here?"

"I didn't think," I snapped. "I was just obeying orders."

"Whose, I wonder?" His sounded half amused, half annoyed. "I cannot remember ordering you to bring a Force sensitive into the vicinity of our volatile Jedi Master."

Oh. Well. I really hadn't thought about that. Coming to think of it now made me want to do a headdesk. How stupid could you be? Enormously, in my case. "Oops."

"I do not think that 'oops' even begins to cover it, Ms Morrison." He stood up and touched a nearby display. The image changed into one showing Kyp looking rather beat and positively tiny with that huge frame strapped onto his back. "Do I have to tell you how difficult it was to convince him to cooperate?"

I stared at Kyp. No, I got the picture. And nothing I could say would make it any better. I really needed to start to think. I could have put Kyp anywhere, any garrison, any Imperial presence would have done. But I had taken him along. Why? Because I knew him, knew about him. Because he was familiar. Because I was lonely. Because - I hadn't thought this through. I hung my head. "Sorry, Sir."

"Apology accepted," he returned to his seat. "So what do you suggest to do with him now?"

"Get him out of the way and an education," I replied warily. He liked to ask questions that were actually orders. I didn't want to make that mistake again. "He needs to get used to normalcy again. School, food, other people. And a shrink might be a good idea."

"And, of course, Skywalker to train his abilities," he added.

"Once Kyp has acclimatised to life again, yes," I had to concede. "You wouldn't want him to accidentally blow up stuff, would you?"

"Probably," he sounded thoughtful, as if his mind was already working on another problem. Which it probably was, I didn't really think he wanted my opinion to weigh it. It was another test, though I didn't know what for.

"You could also take that Sun Crusher and have it disposed of," I said into the ensuing silence. "I don't think a weapon that powerful should exist."

"I have already taken care of the Maw Installation," he replied. "You need not worry about that."

Oh. Good. I supposed. I didn't dare to ask any further. I was pretty sure I wouldn't like any of the answers. Wrecking my brain I tried to figure out if all important issues were accounted for at the moment. But it was my brain at work, and it couldn't be trusted. There was something I had forgotten, I just had to remember it.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

* * *

* A video with an approximation of Todd Eldredge's freestyle from the Lalique Trophy 1993:  
On youtube, add: _/watch?v=D2ryj6I_UMU_ to the url


	84. 084

Eighty-Four

"That leaves the subject of your price," Thrawn supplied obligingly. "You had enough time to consider."

He was right, but I was scared. How to phrase something like that? It was - unthinkable? Impossible? Improper? All of that, I feared. I braced myself. "A life for a life," I said. "What I want for saving your life is that of your assassin."

There was very long very uncomfortable silence. I crossed my arms over my chest just to protect myself. Not that it worked any. For glowing eyes, Thrawn's were very good at radiating glacial cold.

Finally, he lowered his chin in half a nod. "I will _consider_ it." It was all the admission I would get. "I also considered you other suggestion. It will make a feasible plan, if a time-consuming one."

I swallowed. "I gauged about six to ten years?" Don't think about it. Just move along. "I don't have to change the whole system, just revoke the ban."

He tilted his head as if slightly irritated by my approach. "You would need a really good reason to stay on Csilla for such a long time. We are not exactly xenophiles."

There we go. "I could think of a reason." There was no answer. He would make me enunciate it. I bit my lip. Whatever it takes, I had said and meant it. And I had sold my soul already. Not much left to bargain with. "It would be understandable, socially accepted, I mean who wouldn't want," I was stumbling over my own tongue, and my head glowed bright enough to function as beacon.

There was no helping it. His eyes still fixed me and showed no indication to come to my aid. I had to take the metaphorical bull by the horns and get over with it. Though in this context it really made for weird images, I didn't care for. "They just banned _you_. There's no law saying you can't have your child raised as one of them, you, them."

There was still no reaction. I used the silence to calm myself. It had been a silly idea anyway. When he had said he had a plan, he had never said it included me at any point. Oh bother. I had just _so_ put my foot into it again. But that didn't matter in the long run, because I had Dave and that made up for any amount of embarrassment. I felt better immediately.

Thrawn nodded thoughtfully. "That would be a strong reminder in the middle of the society. Played right, strong enough to have the ban renounced. Of course, there is still the question if that would be worth a whole galaxy." He tilted his head, never letting his eyes wander.

So, still me? There had to be millions of capable women out there, more capable. Slowly it started to dawn on me that the whole deal was - my deal. Change my galaxy and I'll do - whatever. My hands started to shake. My idea, my plan, my responsibility, my duty. Why had I been thinking I was out of it again? I couldn't keep my thoughts together. Dave's face kept appearing.

"It wouldn't be my galaxy," I got out somehow. "Half of it would be yours, I think." All this thinking got me crazy. I needed clear-cut facts. "So," I went on, "the current plan is to set up your child with it's mother on Csilla."

He nodded.

"Please correct me if I'm wrong," I prayed to be corrected, I hope it showed, "in assuming that I am to be that woman?"

"Correct."

So much for hope. "Bother."

He raised a brow. "You seem to be unhappy with the arrangement."

If you had told me I'd rather decline an offer like this a few months ago, I would have laughed so hard. Now I was about to bite through my own lip. There had to be a sensible way out of the dilemma.

He picked up a datachip and regarded it for a moment. "You will need to know all this." He held it out to me.

Carefully, I took it, making painstakingly sure our hands didn't touch. Then I nodded numbly. I had said whatever it takes and I had meant it. There was no backing out. It was not that I didn't want to save the galaxy any more, it was just, it was just - that I didn't care that much any more. There was another option, or had been. I stared at the chip. "And you...?"

"I am completely aware of the risks and chances of the plan," Thrawn said. It didn't much surprise me that his tone didn't differ at all from any other briefing. "Everything it entails has been taken into consideration, contingency plans are already in effect. The details about future incidents I have, will allow me to control the chain of events to a sufficient degree."

"It would only work, if I loved you," I objected.

"Oh, I don't think that poses much of a problem," he sounded highly amused. I didn't care for the thin smile on his lips. I didn't have an answer for him either.

"Dismissed."

My head jerked up, but I didn't salute. Instead I nodded slowly. It was amazing how a fast your life could crumble around you and turn into something completely new. I left the command room, turning the chip over in my hands. Just when I had begun to sort things for myself. Okay, I might have suspected this to happen, buuuut I had definitely decided to renounce all delusions of grandeur. I think. Maybe not.

Bother.

And there was still Dave. I pocketed the chip. That was the one thing that really got me. No Dave. Ignore that I already had a theoretical boyfriend waiting for me, everything that far back had become frighteningly hypothetical. This was about what I hoped for here. I balled my fists. Maybe I should have kept my darned mouth shut. If I had never said a word, I would have rotted in the detention block until my execution.

I would not have met Dave. But I would not be so disappointed now, not so frustrated and angry at everything and the galaxy in special. Yeah, sure better to love and lose then never to have loved at all. Cheap blabber because it didn't even mention that of course, still loving and being loved beat any of those choices any day.

I wanted choices. I really did. Not the galaxy-spanning ones. Thrawn could keep those, but I wanted to decide about who I spent my life with. That at least. I stormed into the gym, grabbing the first free punching ball. Unthinking, I began to batter it, oblivious of everything around me. It felt good to hurt something, affect something, and if it was just a bag full of whatever hanging from the ceiling. My eyes unfocussed. It really didn't matter what I did, the punching bag couldn't run.

A hand descended on my right shoulder. Without thinking, I whirled around and my fist shot out. It didn't connect, Dave was still leagues better than me, but I didn't care. Not that it mattered much, a few seconds later, I found myself pinned to the ground, face pressed against the cold floor. The only reason I had given up the attempts to free myself was that Dave knew how flexible I was and actually applied a joint lock that really hurt.

"That bad?"

I breathed labouredly, not sure whether to scream or cry.

"Talk about it." He sat me up carefully, not loosening the lock. "This is no way to act."

I looked at him, and felt the urge to hide out in his embrace again. Fat chance. I stared at the floor. Something was leaking little drops. The same something had conveniently stolen my voice. I gurgled.

Dave let go and clapped me on my back. "Is it because of yesterday?", he asked softly.

I could only nod. "I want to be more than friends," I finally got out.

"And the problem is?" He looked genuinely interested, as if the person I wanted to be more than friends with wasn't him.

I stared at my feet. "Because I have to save the galaxy."

"Well, that is okay then." He tilted his head in that painful gesture. "Important things first."

"No! Not, it's not. I want to be happy with you," I shouted at him.

He looked hurt. "Could you, in a galaxy that's falling apart because of what you didn't do?"

Yes! How I wanted to say 'yes, of course, the only thing that matters is to be with you', but I couldn't. I also couldn't believe how sensibly he approached the subject, as if it wasn't him who was affected, too. Maybe it was being a soldier, maybe it was being a clone and maybe it was just a lifetime of duty. I choked. "No."

"And what makes you think I would want to?"

Gods, that was too much. Why did he have to be so military about it? All this Imperial logic made me look like a spoiled brat. Putting my arms around my knees I snuffled. "Nothing?"

"Get your priorities right," he said softly. "Personal happiness is not on first place."

Taking a ragged breath I nodded. "But it's not fair."

"Fairness is a wonderful concept, Mellanna," he almost chuckled, "but it has nothing to do with real life."

"It should." I looked up at him, feeling the tears pool in my eyes. "It should!"

His mouth changed from a wistful smile to a tight line as he nodded curtly. I allowed myself to just cry for a while, distantly thinking that in the GFFA the role of brother and comforter should be cast with Luke, but he was light-years away.

"Maybe the Grand Admiral will have you cloned," Dave said. "It'd be all the same up to here."

I prodded him lightly, trying not to be amused. I wanted to curl up on the floor and cry, but that was impossible when member of the 501st was pulling you up at your arm.

"We need to work on your left high kick," he insisted. "I could fend that of with my bucket on backwards."

"That's because you're perfect, Dave," I said softly.

For a second he just looked at me, then he shook his head. "Practice makes perfect."

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	85. 085

Eighty-Five

I didn't end up practising, though. While I had been trying to hammer the punching bag into next week, my impromptu glove had ripped and pink fluff was glued to the it everywhere. Smears of red joined the pretty picture, since I had, again, managed to bruise my knuckles. My technique left a lot to be desired. So I tried to clean up, but with my hand still adding smears of both colours, I was more a hindrance.

Dave pushed me into the direction of the next med bay. "You get your hands looked after. And next time you bruise your knuckles, I will find some terminal way to break you of that habit," he threatened.

Being attached to my hands, I didn't want them broken. Not even metaphorically. Dutifully I shuffled off. My ever-obliging pad told me to move it anyway, or I'd be late for my lessons with Seros. Bother. I managed to comm him while walking, though it was rather difficult without oozing all over the pad.

"Yes?" he barked at me.

"I just call because I will be late," I said, trying not to ooze on the floor, either.

"It is a bit late to call now, isn't it?" He sounded annoyed. "How long?"

"I don't know," I replied truthfully. "It depends on how long the medic need to take care of my hand."

"What happened?" There might have been a trace of concern. It might just have been smugness, though.

"Nothing bad. I might just allergic to strill," I explained. "It should not take long at all."

"I will be waiting." He broke the connection, which was as well because I had arrived at the med bay. The medic glanced at me, and I was sure he rolled his eyes when he recognized me. Only, he turned his back to put down the pad he had been reading, so I couldn't see it.

"What have you done?" He looked at my hand. The pink fluff was forming a broken crust by now, little dark red dots were scattered over it, too.

I put my own pad down, which immediately started oozing onto the table, but what could I do? I held both hands out and tried to look apologetic. "I seem to have a very bad technique when hitting the punching bag," I said. "And it looks like that glove thing was never meant to be used in combat." Though, you might have been able to fluff your opponent to death with it. I liked the idea.

"It is not," he affirmed. "But you tired anyway." He examined the left hand, too, but it had only abrasions. I would have treated that myself, but with a crusty pink hand that was not so easy. Greras took care of that hand first. Then he carefully removed the last bits of the former glove and put my hand into a box. I wondered if my hand could be pink and not pink at the same time in it. It was likely.

It turned out to be just a small sonic. So my hand was definitely not pink any more when I pulled it back. It did look red and puffy, though and the skin had broken at some places. Not just the knuckles, either.

"The good news is that you are not allergic to strill in general," Greras said as he applied a new salve. Thank the Force it was not pink. Instead of putting a glove over it then, he started to bandage it. And not just a bit to keep the cream where it was supposed to be. I had done that often myself, no he used liberal amounts and made sure I could not use my hand any more. I think I got the message.

"Instead you are reacting to the molecular egesta of a bacteria living in the strill's salvia." He used something that looked like a tiny flame-thrower to merge the end of the bandage with the rest of it. "The reaction should wear off in a few days. Keep the bandage on until then." He looked me up and down. "You still have the injector?"

After fumbling with my pockets for a while I found it. It was difficult to search the pockets on your right with the left hand, but Greras had bandaged my right so much that it looked as if I was wearing a mitten. Still it could have been worse - it might have been pink.

As it turned out, cleaning a pad hindered like that was not easy either. If Greras hadn't looked, I might just have wiped it on the new bandage. In the end it was clean and the ooze didn't cling to me instead. Time to meet Seros and suffer some diplomatic wrath.

To my surprise he was not angry at all, or didn't show it the least. Instead he made me sit down and looked very serious. "You know I cannot teach you all subtleties of diplomacy in a few months," he began and that alone scared me. How come he had some rough schedule when I didn't? "But your mission is important, so I expect you to concentrate. Even if it is difficult."

I nodded numbly. He seemed to know a lot of disagreeable things about my future that I didn't. It made me very uneasy. "I will, Sir," I replied carefully. "I know I cannot afford to fail."

"Very good. We will start right away. How good do you think you are with table conversation?" He moved his chair next to mine.

"Not good at all, I'm afraid." It really had been a bit optimistic to hope I would like these lessons now. I just didn't like social stuff. It was a much too slippery slope. But there was no choice. I had to learn professional small talk. How I hated small talk. It seemed to take forever, too. When Seros finally let me go, my head was buzzing. I was looking forward to shooting exercises.

Arn waited for me at the shooting range. And he had a huge surprise with him. Well, maybe not that huge, but the rifle he handed to me was a lot longer than the normal blasters. I had a very bad feeling about it immediately.

"A bit of fun," He announced. "I hope you don't mind that it's not a DC-17."

I shook my head weighing the weapon. It was rather heavy. Actually, considering my skills, it might have been easier for me to club somebody to death with it than shoot him dead. "So, when's the other shoe coming down?" I asked him.

"I am not authorised to tell you," he steered me into the range. "But I am sure you will find out soon enough. For now, you will learn how to handle an E-11."

I cradled the rifle and tried to feel happy. It was a nice weapon, and I really had wanted to play with it. Whatever hard fate awaited me, it would wait until this was over. Not that I got to shoot right away. First Arn explained how to change the power pack. then I had to extend and fold the stock several times before Arn lectured me about the scope, targeting and trigger systems. In theory it was all easy, but with my right turned into a mittne, I had touse my left hand at that made things very difficult.

Finally, I was allowed to fire a first shot; it went wide, very wide. I was happy that we were alone on the shooting range, otherwise I might have killed somebody. That thing had recoil! I hadn't expected that, after all it was only shooting particle beams, not bullets.

Arn corrected my stance and told me to fire at the opposite wall this time. The range smelled of scorched durasteel. I concentrated and managed to hit the opposite wall. After a few more attempts I hit the target, too. This was not so much fun as I ha believed. It was work, even. The rifle got heavy and for security reasons, I had to change the power pack after each shot. As If I could have run amok with the thing; after a wile I had trouble holding it up.

So I was allowed to lie down on my belly and try again. It didn't take long until I decided that blaster rifles would never be my weapon of choice. I'd leave them to more capable men. The thought hurt, mostly because I didn't know how I stood in relation to those capable men any more. I only knew where I could not stand any longer. Or could I?

I aimed at the heart of my opponent, a figure outlined by light, hanging somewhere between me and the opposite wall. A blaze of red shot through the range, cutting through the outline somewhere in the belly. I shook my head. Thinking was of no use. I was committed and that was that. But that didn't mean I'd have to spend the rest of my life without love, did it? I watched my hands reload methodically. It did. It didn't. It depended on the definition.

I aimed again. From a certain point of view everything was perfect. The blaster bolt went through the forehead of the target. Perfect. Only if you didn't take into consideration that I had aimed for the heart again. It all depended on the point of view. I didn't reload. It was futile.

"Are you okay?" Arn asked as I got up.

"No." I put the rifle into his hands. I smiled weakly. "No."

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	86. 086

Eighty-Six

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!!_

I stared at the ceiling in the darkness for a long while. I didn't want to get up. My life was not my life any more. As if I had had a choice. But of course, I did. And I had chose. That didn't mean I had to like it, right? I just had to see it through. Make it right.

But to do that, I would have to get up. I wondered if there was a way to import konto tea to Csilla. Quickly I shoved the thought away. I would ignore that as long as I could. Instead I would think of the things at hand. My hand for example. It itched and I didn't know if the injector would work through the bandages. Maybe it would work also, if I put it to me neck. Numbing my head did seem like a very good idea.

But then I looked at my pad and found a big chunk of time taken up by Seros. Diplomatic lessons, oh dear. I'd really need my head there. Though his Admiralship could at least try to make it a bit more like Princess Diaries or something and give me some fancy clothes. I wondered if Chiss wore fancy clothes. Like ever.

Not that I did. I looked at my jumpsuit as I went to the gym. That had stayed, and I was grateful to start my morning trying to beat the Sith out of Arn. He seemed to watch me closely for any signs of break-down, but this time I had myself under control. After all, I was in happy denial. That which must not, cannot be.

"I expected you to be more angry," he finally said. "Or sad. More anything actually."

"Oh, I haven't started to cope yet," I grinned and tried to break through a weakness in his defence.

"I heard differently." Arn parried and forced me a few steps backwards.

Turning away to my right, I brought my elbow up under his ribs while aiming the other stick at his head. I didn't want to think of that. I didn't answer.

"You can talk about it, you know?" He whacked his one stick on my right arm and parried the strike with his own forearm.

Wit a sudden I dropped both sticks and shook my head. "I can't. If I do - it'll all break apart. I think." I saw his counter attack but didn't move. Being knocked out was not the worst I could imagine.

But Arn stopped an inch short of actually turning my head into pulp. He sighed. "I'll prepare for when you get difficult again then."

I shrugged helplessly. "You better, it's bound to happen."

"Would playing around with a plex or conc rifle help any?" He was concerned, those offers showed it clearly. It was touching. So it was as I had suspected. When bad things happened I got treats. Not that it didn't work, heaven knew it worked.

"I'm afraid it won't," I sighed. "But thanks for offering." I tried to think of something that would help. There was nothing. I had to get to find something sooner or later. But right now neither peace nor quite would help. Work, work helped for a while and maybe I could cope then. There was always hope.

To my amazement, C'baoth was the next stop on my schedule. I had gotten so used to the lightsaber hanging from my belt by now, I had to feel for it, to make sure it was really there. I was not sure what to expect. What, if he had felt Kyp? I didn't dare think abut it.

"Master," I greeted him formally as I entered the study room. C'baoth was sitting on his throne-like chair regarding me thoughtfully. "I am sorry I could not come sooner -"

"I was busy," he cut me off. "The Grand Admiral is trying and tiresome, but not much longer." He waved me towards him. "You realise that you must work harder on your abilities?", he asked then.

I gave him a questioning look. "Harder then what?"

"Don't think I didn't feel it!" He got up and pointed an accusing finger at me. "Your powers are strong, if unreliable. You must work harder on controlling them. It is a matter of concentration!"

What was he talking about? I didn't get it. And I am sure my confusion showed on my face. "Tell me what to do, Master." That approach should work. After all, he was still C'baoth.

"When you returned to the Chimera, remember how you felt," he put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. "The Force was strong with you then. Free from any restrains! But as soon as you were back, the darkness descended on you again."

Oh. Bleep!

"It is the Empire," he went on. "You must free yourself of it's hold, my Padawan! Or it will suffocate you."

At least, this meant he didn't know about Kyp. "I didn't realise," I began. "I mean, I felt wonderful, really great, but -. You are right, Master. The Empire is holding me in ties." I looked at my feet and tried not to lose it. Darn. How could he come to such wrong conclusions and still get to me that bad.

"I must go and fight another of the Grand Admiral's battles," he scoffed. "But you! You must find a way to extract yourself from his web, Mellanna!" He looked at me insistently. "Free yourself. Be nobody's fool."

I bit my lip and nodded. He was so right. I shouldn't be a mere puppet. I needed to hold my own strings. Initiative, where had I put that again? I'd find it, of that I was certain. "Take care, Master," I said softly.

C'baoth snorted. "There is nothing he can do to me, my Padawan. Rest assured."

I didn't, but for once it wasn't C'baoth's fault. Instead it was Seros. Yes, diplomatic skills were innocent enough, but his insistence on proper form drove me nuts. I could not stand without being corrected, let alone take a step or say a word. I would say he was all over me if that wouldn't conjure up completely wrong images. After an hour he even went so far to make me hold my lightsaber between my shoulder blades so I would learn some aristocratic bearing. And all the while he mad me recite rules of conversation, think up examples and then play out some dialogues.

He made a very good sparring partner for verbal matches. His knowledge of all things Empire was endless. That was maybe teaching me more than walking up and down, trying not to drop my saber. When I finally was allowed to sit down, he immediately scolded the way I put my feet and my hands, and well, all the rest.

Who would have thought I didn't even know how to sit?

Seros, obviously. But I let him. My future might depend on knowing how to sit right. Or not. It gave me something to focus on. Also, it turned out that my immediate future would be spent with his Admiralship again. I needed to stop calling him that. I think. Mulling that over, I tried to explain the usefulness of mercenaries to him. He did hold the stance that mercenaries were just scum and deserved to be eliminated after use. The catch was that I was not allowed to throttle him. Harder than I had thought, because he was doing the _advocatus diabilo_ too well.

In the end I managed to let him live and stalk away almost gracefully. Still, as soon as the door closed behind me I let the hilt of the saber clang to the ground with a sigh. Flexing my shoulders, I picked it up, just to find myself facing an irritated Seros look at me.

"You are much to easy to see through," he told me. "You really need to work on that."

I let my shoulder sag and nodded. "Yes, Sir." Attaching the lightsaber to my belt again I trudged off. I was not keen on meeting with Thrawn again already. But it couldn't be helped. And I managed to grab a cup of tea before I found myself before his door. It really helped when you associated tea with instant happiness. I just doubted it would last very long.

The antechamber was empty. That was because Rhukh was standing beside Thrawn with Barhekh. The displays showed images of carved wood, following the intricate patterns as I walked by, I got the impression they were lineages. Long and complicated genealogies.

I didn't salute, I didn't know what to do at all. This felt awkward.

"Mellanna." He inclined his head. It sounded strange from him. Wrong. He wasn't supposed to use my first name.

I felt the urge to squirm. "Yeah," I hesitated. "I mean, yes, Sir." Somehow, I couldn't recall any of Seros' lessons about polite conversation. Bother.

Thrawn seemed about to shake his head. Instead he gestured at Barhekh. "As you should know by now, life on Csilla is not without risks. You need to get used to having a body guard as soon as possible."

I looked from him to Barhekh and back. Did I have hearlucinations? I would need a bodyguard on Csilla? Nobody had ever mentioned that. And I certainly didn't like the idea. Though, on the other hand....

"Oka-," I stopped myself. "That is very considerate of you." Take that! My head had caught up finally. Seros' lessons to the rescue!

"Since there is no space for a bodyguard where you live now, you will move. Everything has been arranged." It almost seemed as if he smiled, but I wasn't sure. Maybe there was something amusing about my new home that I was not yet aware of.

"Thank you." I didn't miss a beat. Politeness could be a wall. I surely needed one now. "Is there anything else, you wanted me for?"

Now he did smile. "Not now. I leave it to Barhekh to educate you about the duties and responsibilities of a body guard."

"Very well." I nodded. "I'll be off and get educated then." Well, talking faster than thinking again already. But it didn't really matter. Barhekh moved to my side and I turned to leave. I didn't see him follow me, but when I reached the corridor, he was suddenly in front of me taking the lead. We didn't go far though. Just a few doors down the corridor he stopped, opened a door and slipped inside. I followed warily.

It was a quarter, a bigger one. Not really huge, but there was an antechamber and a door leading away from that, most likely to the private rooms of my new body guard. Who was checking on the room behind it diligently. As far as I could see, all my stuff was there already. Which was not much anyway.

With a sigh I flopped down on my new bunk. Not embedded in the wall this time, but standing with one side against the bulkhead like a real bed. I looked around and saw doors that looked like cupboards, one to the fresher and real shelves over the desk. I wondered who had been evicted from the room to make space for me.

Barhekh finished checking on the room and came to stand beside me.

"Okay, you can get started," I told him. "I am all ears. And if you want, you can sit down, too."

Well, the first lesson about body guards was that they did not sit down with their protectee. He was not my buddy. Too bad. And he had a lot more to say.

So this is the reason I didn't update here....


	87. 087

Eighty-Seven

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!! _

At least my wake up call was as I remembered it. There was no chance to bounce my head against a low ceiling, the way to the fresher was surprisingly long and then there was the matter of cupboards. I had them, several, and except for the last one, they were all empty. Finally I found a jumpsuit. I took my bootsand pad to be off - or so I thought.

When I tried to leave through the antechamber, a firm grip stopped me in my tracks. "You cannot leave like this," my new bodyguard told me.

I looked down, but I was completely clothed, all zippers, buttons and even shoelaces closed fast. "Why?"

Barhekh pulled me back into the room. "The officer's mess is not a place you can show up in jumpsuit," he lectured.

"Oh." Well, how was I to know that from now on breakfast would be a stylish event for high heels and evening gowns? I changed into a uniform, got a cap and then paused. "Barhekh," I asked hesitantly. "Before going out there, could you explain proper saluting to me?"

I am not sure what Noghri do instead of rolling their eyes but it is very subtle. I didn't notice a thing. "Straighten wrist and fingers," he ordered. "The index finger is to touch the temple at the lower edge of the headgear. The upper arm runs parallel to the ground in shoulder height."

I followed his instructions. All I needed to add was looking sharp. That might pose a problem right there.

"No good," Barhekh agreed. "You do not have a badge on your cap."

"So?"

"That means you have not yet learnt how to give a proper salute."

"Then what am I doing in the officers mess?"

"Not getting into trouble." He gestured to the door. "And no saluting either."

I was not sure if that was a good or a bad thing. Though it might explain a lot of things about the military if you already got badges for simply being able to salute. I trudged off, trying to keep an eye on Barhekh. That proved pretty difficult, he seemed to be walking a step behind me, his steps matched perfectly with mine. There was only on footfall to be heard.

I had to think of Carlos Castaneda, who had had something to say about life being only perfect if you could see your death walk half a step behind you. Now that I got that, I couldn't think what was supposed to be so great about it. Maybe, if my mind jumped the shark as his did, I could ask him when I met him on the road to Ixtlan_._ And _that_ would rid me of all my problems.

The officers mess was yet another place full of Imperials in nifty uniforms. I did get strange looks for my complete lack of salutes, but a second glance at Barhekh seemed to convince everybody that it was fine. The amazing effects of a bodyguard. I sat down, but still didn't get to see the Noghri. It made me feel slightly guilty. Me, digging in and him standing around somewhere watching the Imps go by.

But that was what I had to get used to. Somebody standing around wherever I went. I wondered if I would ever get used to it and stop feeling guilty for wasting Barhekh's time. Only time would tell. The food here didn't look any different from what I had seen before. Maybe the differences were just too subtle for me to see. It was still all very alien food. I was scared that Seros might get the idea to teach me how to eat orderly and which cutlery went with which kind of food. When I couldn't even tell veggies from meatball here, that would be horror.

I gulped down the last of my tea and got up. No sign of Barhekh. But the way the others looked at me told me he was still following me. It was creepy. I wondered if he'd attack Arn in the training. I wondered if there was anything I could do in that case. There wasn't. But my fear was unfounded. Barhekh stayed beside the door to the gym, watching.

That did not improve anything. I was used to Arn ordering me around and being unhappy with my progress, the calm gaze of the Noghri only made me feel a lot more clumsy. I wanted to make a good impression, even if a bodyguard was to have no personal opinion about his protectee's abilities. I hoped. Arn landed another punch.

"What is distracting you, Mellanna?", he wanted to know.

I glanced at Barhekh. "I know it's probably bad manners to be unsettled by your own bodyguard," I replied. "I just can't help it."

Arn followed my gaze and shrugged. "Ignore him."

"I try to, but I can't." It was driving me crazy. I felt watched. Okay, I _was_ watched, but in a good way. I hoped. "I have the feeling he's judging me all the time and I keep falling incredibly short."

"So what?" Arn took a defensive stance again. "Nothing he thinks can affect you. He'll protect you anyway."

Maybe that was just it. Maybe it would have been easier if I had felt Barhekh was actually protecting somebody worth it. With a sigh I raised my sticks again. And Arn was wrong, because what Barhekh thought did affect me. Still, I managed to get through the training without any more incidents. That might have been because after a while I forgot about Barhekh. Only when I left the gym, and I walked right up to and past him, did I remember. And didn't stumble over my own feet, so there was hope.

Also, Barhekh did not follow me into the locker room and sonic. Good to know. I didn't come out again for quite a while, preferring to be alone.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	88. 088

Eighty-Eight

I came out on my own in the end because I didn't want to find out for real if Barhekh would come to get me. He didn't even look impatient. Before I was allowed to irritate the tinsel boys again by invading their mess, I had another appointment with Greras. Not that my hand hurt or anything. I hoped that he'd take off that bandage again. It was annoying.

Greras was a pro when it came to body guards, he didn't take the least notice of Barhekh. Instead the Noghri took keen interest when the medic approached my hand with something that looked like a laser pointer. It was something like that, too, only a bit sharper. He cut through the bandage carefully, and shook his head when a very pink hand came to light. It was obviously not healing as planned.

But the skin had closed again, no blood visible, and the itch was okay. I had applied the injector after the sonic, and didn't feel much in my hand. Grereas turned it over, and ran a sensor over it. "We will have to do it the hard way, I am afraid."

"And that means?" I was not sure I wanted to know. The whole bandage had been inconvenient enough.

Greras donned gloves and placed my hand inside a device that looked like a see-through shoe box. "This won't hurt," he assured my, "but when the mineralised ichor starts to exosmose through your skin it _will _hurt. We have to stop the infection from spreading up your arm and into the body though."

He could use long and complicated words that frightened me. I remembered osmosis from biology lessons, but this was the first time somebody suggested minerals wander through the skin just because. It sounded painful. "I still have the injector," I told Greras brightly.

He smiled. "Good but most likely not good enough." Something cold enveloped my hand. "I will give you something stronger. Please do not overuse, though. You don't want all your muscles to relax and go numb."

Uh, no I certainly didn't want that. And not only because Seros would so berate me on my bearings. The cold receded and started to feel gooey. With a lot of care, Greras took my hand, which was indeed covered with stuff that looked like ectoplasm. Then I got another glove, it fitted only loosely.

"Treat the hand with care," Greras advised. Then he gave me another injector. It had a red marking around the handle. Then I was released to have lunch. Still, no going to my usual haunts. Barhekh herded me into the nearest officers' mess again. I wondered why that was necessary. I could eat with the normals just as well. And feel better.

At least this glove didn't make funny noises. The image of my hand rubber-farting in the officers' mess while I tried to eat was embarrassing. And funny. If it had happened to somebody else. My hand started to itch madly when I reached dessert. I took that as a sign to have it twice, despite it being violently orange. It reminded me of cream, peaches and oregano.

Seros was not ignoring Barhekh. He was much more incorporating his presence to school me in how to behave bodyguard friendly. There were some things you just shouldn't do. Suddenly running off in random directions, was one. Getting involved in a fist fight, too. That was the bodyguard's job. I would take some time getting used to the idea to step back if something threatening came up. Seros was good at imitating threats and it took some time until I was not in Barhekh's way each time. If anything happened, I would be so dead.

Barhekh was patient and after getting in his way once or twice, I hurt enough to take a step back voluntarily. He seemed to be built of steel and cable ropes. With some practice it became easier to know how to react to a sudden threat, and only towards the end did I get careless and managed to butt my head against his. I missed half of Seros' berating feeling too fuzzy to think. I would surely get a headache, and no using my new injector on the head.

Instead I used it on my wrist after the lesson. My hand itched like hell, and had turned a darker shade of pink, almost like raspberries, only not as appetising. I wondered if there was a way to shock his Admirals- Thrawn with it somehow. The itching let off before I arrived, though.

As I went through the antechamber there was the soft growl of two Noghri talking in their native tongue. I liked the sound of it, complicated, intertwined and completely foreign. I entered the room alone. Obviously both bodyguards felt that we were safe with each other. I was not so sure, seeing that I had stumbled into the latest GFFA fashion week.

All over the room hung pictures of Chiss in robes, some with complicated patterns, some with just a small adornment. I tried to take all of them in as I made my way towards the double ring of displays. The closer I came, the more prominent red became with the other colours taking a back seat. I think I got that message.

I still didn't know how to say hi. How awkward was that? The only excuse I could think of was, that once things were going well, I would be going too, and be spared the embarrassment of saying hi to him for about forever. No such luck now. "Hey." It didn't sound very convinced.

"Mellanna," he nodded. "I trust you are well?"

Small talk, oh noes. "Yes," I replied, trying to smile. I gave up. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"This small talk," I hesitated, "is it important on Csilla?"

He tilted his head slightly, a hint of amusement on his features. "I am afraid so."

"You're right to be so," I sighed. "My abilities - are sub par." I corrected myself before saying 'suck'. It was most likely the wrong thing to say. "I have my difficulties understanding the workings of and reasons behind it."

"That will pass. Meanwhile," he indicated the images in the room. "You are familair with the Ruling Houses, their colours and patterns of indicating rank?"

I glanced around panicky. Truth be told, I had but a rough idea, I didn't even know all the colours for the house, let alone the names. "Um, a bit?"

He leaned back looking at me expectantly. "Explain then."

"Well, there are Nine Ruling families and each has their own colour." So far so good. "The military has black as a colour, since it draws on all families and black is all colours added up. Except if you're an Admiral, then you wear white because you're not of any family an more. The Mitth family has red as it's colour and the Chaf family has yellow."

That was about all I knew. I thought hard, but nothing else I could think of had any relevance on clothing and colours. I could feel how I didn't live up to expectations very much right then.

"Did you even look at the data I gave you?" he wanted to know.

I blushed, shook my head and looked at my feet. "Not yet."

"Why?"

"I - I didn't think of it." There was no reply. He was probably using body language to express his disapproval, but I kept staring at my feet. Somebody was obviously shining my boots when I didn't look. They still looked like new. Suddenly, they were not the only boots in my view any more. I knew I should raise my head and look up now, but there was the whole Grand Admiral to glance over. I decided to blink very strategically.

"Csapla, Nuruodo, Sabosen, Inrokini, Chaf, Prad, Cers, Mitth, Tiar," Thrawn's voice was calm. "Their colours are bronze, red, green, ultramarine, yellow, purple, brass, burgundy and teal."

I swallowed as I looked up at him and nodded slightly. "Yes, Sir." It was barely audible.

"Learn those files. I will see you tomorrow."

It seemed impossible to focus on his face, the lines kept blurring. I nodded again. "Will do." Slowly I turned to leave. It felt like moving in jelly. Finally I reached the door, but there was no time to pause. Barhekh would be back like a shadow. I didn't see him. I didn't hear him follow me. I didn't notice when he slipped away in my quarter again.

There I sat down to learn, the data chip was packed. I could only read half of it as the other was written in some other foreign letters. When I had hoped to have that behind me. I opened the files on clothing customs, colours and patterns. Some of the images seemed familiar, I wondered if they had been on display in Thrawn's room.

Reading was actually very interesting. The ways the colours were arranged were highly complicated and thoroughly confusing, but they told you almost everything you needed to know. House affiliation, rank, status and office. And none of the formal robes were actually in the colour of the Ruling house. The basis for all formal robes in that sector was grey for politics. In just cases the patterns denoting all there was to know about the bearer just covered all of it.

My head spun, because that was just the beginning. There was blue to denote if you were foreign, adopted or on trail, and black to denote the military which led to extremely complicated patterns. I stared at the images until my vision started to cloud over. Some of the patterns gave me headaches. They were described differently, but I just couldn't see it. And I managed to find a magnify feature for the pictures all on my own even.

The reds looked all the same, most of them more same than different. The images blurred more and more. I rubbed my eyes, finding my had to itch rather bad. Small white dots were forming on the skin. I hoped it was normal. And the headache grew worse. I stared at the pictures dejected. It was no use. I shut the terminal down and went to bed.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	89. 089

Eighty-Nine

_I'm on a comic fair, looking for a new Thrawn action figure. My old one is - gone; chess game and all. So I need to have a new one. But there is little Star Wars merchandise, only PT, too. Most of the stuff is from Harry Potter and LotR. My sister shows me a figure of Aragorn. He sneers at me. I reach out to slap him, but he catches my hand._

_"We shall have none of this, shall we?"_

_I reach for my sword but an armoured hand catches my other wrist. He shakes his head fractionally and I nod. Taking my gun, I walk into the city. It is sealed already, there is no way to get out and the hit men were already here. I can feel him follow me. But the streets all lead back into the centre. So I take the way through the cellars and sewers. Footsteps echo behind me, and there's just brick walls and arches, water rippling over my feet. I look around, getting desperate._

_Finally I find the dumb waiter. I climb in, but it doesn't start. I feel his approach. But this is a dream, I think as I try to make the lift work. I don't have to die. He turns around the corner. I don't have to be shot, I can be the killer, too._

_Desperately, I try to switch the perspective. Sneering at myself trying to scramble up the shaft. I raise the weapon, looking into its barrel. Why doesn't this work. I release the safety catch, banging my hand against the top of the lift. I raise the weapon as the dumb waiter finally starts to move, I shoot and my hand gets caught between the wall and lift -_

_._

_._

_.  
_

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!! _

My hand throbbed madly, it hurt and itched like hell. When I touched it, pain struck like needles. I got up and turned the lights on, just to find my hand glare at me in a very angry red. White dots covered it and when I touched them, they hurt like hell. Taking a closer look, they seemed to be tiny towers going right through my skin. I think that was what Greras had meant with 'mineralised ichor exosmosing through skin'.

I got my pad and called Arn. "Can't come, to training right now," I said raised my hand into his view. "It hurts like hell and I can't even move my hand properly, I'll have Greras look into it."

Arn nodded, smiling sadly. "Call again if you can train."

I nodded. "Here's hoping it won't take long."

Breaking the connection I got my uniform. Trousers were easy, but how to get a sleeve over your hand without touching the cloth? Well, you didn't. It hurt bad. I closed my eyes, catching my breath. When I opened them again, somebody had dimmed all lights. Only not. But everything was blurry, I couldn't tell where the desk stopped and the wall started. Turning my head, I could only guess where the door to the fresher was.

"Barhekh?" I was about to panic. I even forgot about my hand. "Barhekh?"

"Yes?" His voice was close, but try as I might, I couldn't distinguish him from the grey background.

"I think I'm going blind." I raised a hand tentatively. There surely was a shadow moving through my field of vision. A hand took mine and led me a step back wards. "Sit down," Barhekh told me. As if I had much of a choice.

I heard him talk softly into the comm, but didn't pay too much attention. The intensity of the light flickered, making my head hurt. It was like trying to watch a stroboscope through grey-brown fog. I put my hands to my head, and was immediately reminded that my eyes were not my only problem. What if I was really going blind? If it was some kind of side effect. If you had your eyes lasered at home, there was always a chance you'd go blind too.

My door opened and shadows moved through my quarter. They made humming noises. I think. Suddenly something waved before my face. I leaned back.

"How many fingers do you see?" It was Greras.

"Fingers? Where?" I asked back.

He made a snorting noise. Then light shone into my right eye. It almost hurt, but I was too surprised to react because I also had fingers holding my lids apart. For a few moments the light moved around, then everything went dark. Fortunately, that was just my eyes shutting themselves automatically, as soon as Greras let go of my lids.

"Just a side effect," he assured me. "We will have that cured in no time. Just a little intervention and your eyes will be like new."

I blinked, trying to see through the blurriness. "Okay?"

"We better get you to the medic ward," Greras went on. He took my arm and helped me up. I slowly stumbled along, wondering how long it would take to get to the med bay like this. But just a second later the humming suddenly made sense. It was a repulsorlift stretcher. I let my hands wander over the surface, trying to gauge how big it was, and very much where. Then I laid down and closed my eyes.

It was much better to see nothing because you had your eyes closed than to see nothing because you just couldn't see anything. I didn't want to go blind. It scared senseless me despite Greras assurances. Being blind was all kinds of complications, though, looking at the upside of it, it would excuse me from learning those Chiss colour patterns. I wondered how a blind Chiss told rank and allegiance of others.

Which reminded me of the learning I should have done. All I could hope for now was that my eyes didn't regenerate in time for my appointment with his Grand Admiralship. And if my eyes had been correct, there had also been an appointment with Dave been scheduled. I pressed my lids shut. That was something I didn't want to think about either. I wanted him to be here and hold my hand. I didn't want to be so alone.

Doors hissed open and brighter lid shone through my lids. I had no idea how to face Dave again. It was even more complicated now than before. How did you face a man you wanted but couldn't get? When I had been so close. Just thinking about it hurt even worse than my hand. There was nothing I could do. There was still the Byss mission we were both on.

Nothing I could do. Nothing but meet him again and then - I couldn't finish the thought. The stretcher stopped. None of the things I wanted to do matched with those I had to. But in the end it came down to two choices. I was heaved onto another pallet. I would do the most difficult thing I could think of, try and be friends with him. Something cold touched my throat. If stormtroopers had friends. Fortunately, my mind winked out at that point.

And this is the reason I didn't update.


	90. 090

Ninety

I woke and couldn't see anything. I tried to sit up, raise my hands to my face, but I couldn't move. "Wah-"

"It is alright." Barhekh's voice cam from my left. "We thought you would panic when you awoke unable to see."

Damned right. He laid a hand on my still flailing left but didn't take it. His palm felt cool, almost leathery. There was a soft hiss.

"You can move now," Barhekh said.

But I didn't. I felt my eyes, but the lids didn't move at all. At least it didn't hurt. Neither did my hand. I balled it to a fist. It felt warm and a little strange, but didn't hurt. "Will I stay blind?" I asked into the dark silence.

"No, of course not." Greras' voice sounded very close, but I hadn't even heard footsteps. It was worrying not to be able to see what was going on around me. "There were some complications during the operation, but nothing serious."

"Complications?" I still tried to blink.

"It seems the bacteria was not as restricted to the hand as we thought." His tone was hard to interpret without facial expressions accompanying it. "Did you give the hand a break?"

I shook my head, thinking of all I had done, and it did not count as taking it easy in any way.

"I thought so." He sighed. "Somehow you managed to get your eyes infected."

"And the hand?" I wanted to know.

"We had to dissever and scavenge it, but it recoalesces fine. It should be healed again soon, we injected some bacta." He made a short pause. "The eyes might take a few days to come back to normal, though. Your sight will be blurry and probably darkened."

I sighed. I hated seeing nothing already and it was sure not to improve my mood in the coming days. Not to mention that I would be incapable to do my homework for Thrawn. Oh, he'd love this. I was an epitome of exemplaryness. And blind.

"Can I get up?"

There was no answer. Maybe they had all left thinking that everything was said and done. I turned my head, which was a fine gesture, but still very in vain. The darkness was just the same on either side.

"You need to stay in bed until the bandages come off," Greras finally said.

I nodded. That would be so boring. What could I do without seeing? Nothing. I settled back and tried to shrug as if I didn't care. "Okay."

"If everything proceeds as planned, that will be tomorrow," he added.

I nodded again. Whatever. It was too long anyway. Maybe I could sleep away the whole day, there was nothing else I could think of doing. Frag my eyes.

"Listen to this," Barhekh said suddenly at my side. It was as much a warning as I got before huge earphones descended on me. For a moment I lay in complete silence and darkness, then something that would have to be classified as music for a lack of better description started. It was melodic, utterly foreign and using nothing I could identify as an instrument. Maybe it was all synthesisers.

A man, I guess it was a man, started to talk. Or maybe slow rap was all the rage here, I was not sure. Maybe this was what some people called singing? I didn't understand a word he said, though the language was rather nice. Like somebody had blended Spanish and Japanese with just a sprinkle of Maori in it. It was calming.

I must have drifted half asleep because suddenly the voice sounded like that of his Admiralship over something that was suspiciously similar to 1/1 by Brian Enno. I chuckled half-heartedly, wondering if he'd expect me to understand what he said. But it sounded great; sagacious, deep, almost sexy and I was tempted to unearth the cliché of the blade wrapped in black velvet. And that when he probably just reading the Chiss edition of _Burke's Peerage_.

A touch at my right hand woke me. I hadn't even noticed falling asleep. The music and voice had stopped, actually, I didn't feel the headphones any more. I raised my hands to my ear, and found them gone. Fast asleep indeed. I wondered why Barhekh had woken me. Then I smelled the food and as if on cue, my stomach growled.

Something was placed over my legs and my back was propped up. Then Barhekh took my right hand and placed it against a glass. He took my right and laid it over the cutlery. Did he really expect that I ate blind as I was? I sat very still for a while but nothing happened. So I curled my hand around the glass and then I let go of it again. Instead I felt my way around the small table before me, careful not to knock anything over.

I had one plate, one glass and some cutlery, under the cutlery there was a napkin. The glass was on the right above the plate and it was a thin high thingy. I marked the upper edge with my left as I raised it to my mouth and managed to drink without spilling anything or knocking my teeth out. So far so good. It was only water. At least I wouldn't have to worry about leaving stains of red wine.

My fingers wandered along the rim of the plate and I wondered if I should poke around on it with my fingers to find out whether I had steak or soup or anything in between. But that was no good, was it? What was this if not another test? So I was back at square one. Or maybe not. The whole life was a test and you only got to know if you passed at the very end. Of course, I could take the easy way out now, go on pretending that his Admiralship was doing the judging, when he really wasn't. This was my life. I did the judging. I set the standards, the goals. This was my responsibility. My choice. And if I failed to live up to my own standards of perfection, that was my fault. Mine alone. Thrawn had nothing to do with this at all.

If I hadn't had my eyes covered already, I would have closed them now to get a grip, while my fingers froze around the rim of the plate. My expectations, my rules, my life. My responsibility. _So eat then_, I told myself. _Eat and see what happens._

Carefully, I took up the cutlery, and felt for the knife and fork. No use pretending. Perfection laid that way, so that was where I would go. With the tips of my fingers I felt for the plate and lowered the cutlery. The fork hit something soft and I poked it into it. Then I raised it again, hoping dearly something would stick to it as I cut under the teeth, so I wouldn't drag everything from the plate by accident. When I was tentatively positive I only had a small chunk of food speared, I tried to manoeuvre it into my mouth without any incidents. That went surprisingly well.

It was some kind of - stew. Bigger and smaller bits of varying softness, salty and tasty. I lacked words to describe what food here tasted like, even when I saw it, this was not any easier. I chewed carefully, not because it tasted extremely good, but also because as long as I chewed, I did not have to return to the adventure of getting another bite.

In the end, I had to, though. After some fumbling, I found the plate again and stabbed at its content indiscriminately. Hopeful I had hit something, I raised the fork to my mouth again, making sure it didn't trail anything with my knife again. I managed not to poke through my lower lip and chewed again. It was definitely not something I knew. Though it was spicy, a bit like a real Thai curry but without being so utterly scorching. I ate very slowly, meditating on the taste and hoping Barhekh was not taking money for glimpses at me.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	91. 091

Ninety-One

There was nobody shouting at me to wake up in the morning. At least I guessed it was morning, there was no telling. Out of habit I turned my head, but the darkness was the same on all sides. I felt for cannulas in my arms and hands, but found none. Another good sign. But before I could roll on the side and curl up, a voice wished me a good morning.

"I will take of the bandages now, Ms. Morrison," Greras heralded the good news. "After a few easy tests, we will see if you need to stay longer."

I nodded. "Anything I should do?"

"Hold still."

Now that was easy. I sat and waited for something to happen, but Greras seemed to be in no hurry. It seemed like ages had passed before something happened around my head. Soft pressure was applied at different places and there was a hiss as something cut through the bandages. They were slowly taken from my face and I blinked repeatedly. I felt like an owl. But I couldn't stop. Not that is seemed to help any.

"And I should be able to see now?" I asked cautiously.

"No."

"Good, because I don't."

Greras chuckled. "The light is dimmed, though even in full brightness it would seem dim to you. We do not want to overtax your eyes from the start."

Something bright shining right into my eye belied his words immediately after he had uttered them. It did not hurt though, just feel warm inside my eye, a bit like looking into the sun. Only it wasn't the usual yellow but looked more red. I blinked.

"Very good," Greras commented. "The retina stopped coming off."

Excuse me, what? Why did I get to hear about that only now? I mean, yes, it stopped, great, but, why did nobody tell me? Those were my eyes after all. The information policy in this Empire left a lot to be desired. I blinked again. But then, had it ever been any better? I might just have been a tad to distracted to notice.

The light went out. "Very good. You may leave now."

"If I can," I replied under my breath.

He heard it anyway. "I am sure your bodyguard can help you there."

I blushed. "Yeah, sorry."

"You will eat first," Barhekh chimed in.

"Good plan." By the time breakfast arrived, I was able to make out dim shapes. That helped tremendously during breakfast. That, and the fact I got muesli. No need to handle a knife or even a fork. But there was no konot tea. Only well, other tea, I guessed. If all flavoured water was tea. I managed to go to the fresher all by myself, thank heaven! It took some time until I had my clothes on the right way round, but it did work. The real problem was that I saw less the closer something was. It became darker and more fuzzy.

"So, where to now?" I asked in the general direction of where I suspected Barhekh.

Of course, he replied from a completely different direction. "Follow me."

Before I could wonder how I should manage that, he took my hand, which didn't hurt at all amazingly enough, and led me off. I tried to see where we were going, but the light was not bright enough. The walls and floors blurred into a uniform grey, shades of different grey flitting over it, I supposed that were Imperials.

After a while I just tried to see Barhekh. He was but a step before me and still he was just a blurry shape. This sucked. I just hoped I didn't need my eyesight for the rest of the day. We entered and when Barhekh pushed me through a second door, I had a very bad feeling abut where I was.

Carefully, I tread my way through the big room, praying I didn't run into any of the displays. It would be just like Murphy to have me run into the only real artwork in this room and have me destroy it. I just hoped, Pellaeon had made his comment on it already.

"Hi," I said into the direction of a white shape I considered to be Thrawn. I couldn't even tell his head from the background. But I could see his eyes, kinda. I was pretty sure there were those two red dots staring at me, even if I had nothing I would call proof register with my brain.

"I hear there have been complications." I wished I could see something. His voice crept up on me in an uncanny way.

"I can't see anything, or couldn't," I replied. "It's already much better now. Being blind is - difficult."

"You could have asked Barhekh to help you." Now that I couldn't see him, I could hear his disapproval all the more. Still, it was not as bad as whatever it had been before. I could handle disfavour.

"Yes," I said softly. It was true, I just hadn't thought of it. I -

"But you are stubborn, proud and think you must solve everything on you own."

I stared at my feet, though I didn't see much. There was nothing I could say, it was all true.

"This is not an attitude that will serve you well, Mellanna. We need to work on it."

"Yes, Sir."

"You cannot take up the differentiation of the status patterns, but with the impaired sight, your hearing should be enhanced."

He said more, but I didn't catch a word of it. Only after a few sentences it dawned on me that this was no language I knew. It was the same I had heard the evening before though. So it was time to be a fishing boat. Great. It would never sound that easy from my lips. Not to mention I lacked the deep voice to sound like that. With closed yes I just listened. Cheunh was obviously the source of that creepy undertones. It seemed as if it stood right behind you, gleefully whispering into your ear that you were doomed.

"Are you listening, Mellanna?"

"Yes, Sir. I mean, I think so."

"You _think_ so."

"I might have been just a bit distracted by the sound of it," I admitted embarrassedly. There was no way I would admit it was his voice to be precise. I blamed it on being unable to see.

"You know, you will not be getting anywhere like this?" He sounded only half annoyed.

"Sorry, Sir."

"You also need to work on not calling me Sir." Not that it helped me any. I had no idea what else to call him. Your Admiralship was probably not an option.

"Yes -," there I was almost calling him 'sir' again. I bit my tongue, but didn't get his name out. "You were saying?"

"I was saying a lot of things, but we will start with the basics."

Nodding, I promised myself not to get side tracked this time. Cheunh was most likely a major pain in the rear of a language. Just because it could. And it was...

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	92. 092

Ninety-Two

Well, Cheunh turned out to be a big b-word of a language, probably just because it could. It sounded wonderful when spoken by a native speaker, it sounded like a cat battling hairballs when I tried. That was not improved the least by its horrible way to contract and compound whole sentences into one word. I knew German was known for having fun with compounds and coming up with such nice words as but Cheunh was worse. As if you had allowed somebody to add the Finnish or Turkish tendency to add pre- and suffixes at will.

In short, and it was indeed short, it worked like that:  
I + am = I'm; so far no problem. But just try to add 'home'  
I + am + home = Imome. Or try to say when you were home. Imomerino. Got it? No?  
Me neither.

Thrawn did his best to encourage me, telling me that this was just the beginning and things would become really interesting only later on. Great. If I ever managed to be a fishing boat, I was so going to be a sinking one. At least he was patient. In his position I would have freaked out. Or maybe he had, but I had just been too blind to see. Who knew what a Chiss tantrum looked like anyway? They might just be doing flashy things with their eyes and that was something I didn't even necessarily see when I could see.

On my way back to the door I tried to memorise at least my new personal pronoun, though I would not need it often. It looked as if the Chiss didn't like to put themselves forward and just left out the 'I' whenever possible. A bit like Latin dropping forms of 'esse'. Didn't like it much, but seemed to be good at it already.

Barhekh was already waiting for me, guiding me to the next officers' mess. I only realised how hungry I was, when I smelled the food. How long had that language lesson taken? Long enough to make me really hungry that was for sure. I could barely see my own hands so I just sat down and turned towards Barhekh. "Would it be okay, if I asked you to get me something to eat?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he growled back, sounding neither surprised nor offended. Maybe I was making progress in bodyguard etiquette. Or he just wanted to prevent me from falling over Imperials on my way to the counter before diving head-first into the chip pan. That would not help to improve my eyesight any.

He returned with a platter that smelled like something died on it a long time ago, but I decided not to argue. Maybe he had orders from above about my dieting habits. Which suddenly made me wonder; in a galaxy as big as this should not, by mere probability, chocolate without calories exist? Not to mention all kind of treats which forbid themselves in normal life. I mean, this was sci-fi; rules of normalcy did not apply. Or should not; at least were calories were concerned.

I found my fork and carefully poked the contents on the plate. Again, it seemed to be stew of some kind. Maybe even rootleaf stew, considering the rumours of how that smelled. A bright blotch beside my left hand turned out to be bread. Bracing myself, I took a fork full of stew and raised it to my mouth. How bad could it be?

I did not find out immediately. The dish was so hot, that I positively scorched my mouth with the first bite. The only thing I felt apart from that was something crunchy going pop in my mouth and liquid goo filling it. Hot liquid goo. I was so tempted to spit it out, but didn't dare to. After I swallowed, I groped around for my glass, just to find that Barhekh had brought me tea – hot tea. Bother.

"You need to pay more attention to your senses," he told me softly.

Now that was a bit late. Still I nodded. "Sure do."

"And your mode of speaking," he continued.

"With you, too?" I asked unbelieving.

"Especially with me," he replied.

I took the time to actually think before speaking. "I apologize, I didn't know that." Since I didn't hear him reply, I assumed his answer had been body language. Instead I took another forkful of food and raised it slowly. No need to repeat the disaster. It still smelled horrible, but with half my moth burned, I felt pretty sure I could take it.

It didn't taste that bad at all. The crunchy crust was salty, like breading made from meat; the filling was a mix of soup, melted cheese and dark brown sauce. I ogled the plate hoping to find out if there was anything else on it, but I couldn't make out anything but a brown blotch. After a few more of those balls I hit on soft, yielding somethings that reminded of cooked cucumbers. Under those there was leafy stuff that I suspected to be algae, not easy to bite and not worth the effort either.

By the time I had worked through the meal, my tea had turned cold and I could use it to wash away the last taste of algae. I did not find any dessert. "Don't I get any?" I wanted to know.

"I have no instructions," Barhekh replied.

"Well, take it from me then, I want something sweet for dessert."

"You are in no position to give me orders."

"Because I can't see?" I asked incredulous.

"Because I am not to take orders from you that are not explicitly connected to your personal safety."

Blast it. So food fell under personal safety, but dessert did not? Somebody had to straighten out the Imperial priorities. I followed Barhekh, but not very far.

From out of nowhere, C'baoth swept in. "Follow me!"

My feet were following that order without me having anything to do with it. Somehow it seemed easier to follow him half blind. Maybe it enhanced my other senses, or he had just put some kind of control over me. I preferred the first explanation by far.

"So he has given you one of his pets, too?" The Jedi snarled as Barhekh entered the turbolift with us.

"Yes, though I do not know what he wants to protect me from," I replied.

"He can't protect you, Mellanna," C'baoth snorted. "Only the Force can do that."

"Yes, Master," I bowed obediently, hoping fervently the Force liked me too much to kill me off just for kicks. When we entered the bridge, the stormtroopers guarding the lift gurgled and toppled over. I wanted to stay and see if I could help, but my feet carried me on mercilessly. So much for theory number one.

"GRAND ADMIRAL THRAWN!" he bellowed. The whole bridge echoed with it.

Obligingly, his Admiralship swivelled around in his command chair. "You wish to speak to me, Master C'baoth?" He remained utterly calm; facing an outraged dark Jedi that was quite a feat.

"They have failed, Grand Admiral Thrawn," Cabaoth went on. "Do your hear me? Your commandos have failed!"

I swallowed hard. Were we that far in the story already? I had thought I'd have more time. Maybe I was wrong, maybe it was not the team on Coruscant he referred to. What was there between the attacks with the cloaked Star Destroyers and the attack on Coruscant that I forgot?

"Then it is time for me to take this task upon myself. You will take me to Coruscant. Now."

Well so much for having time. The end was but weeks away, if that long already. I felt my palms getting sweaty. It had been so nice, all in all and in retrospect, to be part, depending heavily on your definition, of the Empire. I was scared. What if I failed? If Thrawn died and all had been in vain? Pelly wouldn't give a damn about my plans. He didn't now and certainly would not if I couldn't keep my promise to save his Admiralship.

And what if I didn't fail, but his Admiralship failed to spare the Republic? I licked my lips nervously, my eyes darting back and forth between Thrawn, Pellaoen and C'baoth. At least I wouldn't have to anguish over Dave, if Thrawn bit the dust. It was a fleeting thought and hurt no matter how I turned it.

"Very well, Master C'baoth, "Thrawn nodded. "We will load my special cargo, and then we shall go."

I tried to look at the asteroids in the shipyard, only shortly distracted by the lights of what was most likely the burning husk of a Star Destroyer. Mazzic and – I had forgotten his name's work. Oh dear, the end was near, indeed. If we now went to unload the asteroids in the orbit of Cosruscant, the next step was already Bilbringi, wasn't it? It all came down to days. I realised two things with a sudden. One, I was biting my lip hard and it bled. And secondly, C'baoth stared at me, while Thrawn seemed to glance with almost causal interest, and Pellaeon not sure what to make of it all.

"I don't believe it!" C'baoth said, turning to Thrawn. "You will allow me to extract Organa Solo and her twins before you set up that siege."

That was not in the script. Not as I remembered it. He must have taken that info from my head. I wondered what else he had done in there, and hoped it did not involve private memories. I blushed as Thrawn's eyes flashed, I didn't think it was amusement. Shrugging microscopically, I tried to look appropriately cotrite.

"Of course, I will," Thrawn then said, turning his attention back to C'baoth. It seemed that I had not messed up too bad after all. But of course, it was not that easy.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	93. 093

Ninety-Three

"You lie!" C'baoth exclaimed, jabbing a finger at Thrawn. "You always lie to me. But no more. No more. I command the Empire, and all its forces." He raised a hand and it seemed to glow; there was no Force lightning though. The air felt as if it was loaded with electricity thick enough to cut into slices. But unlike the personnel onboard, I did not feel his grip on my mind. I hoped that he had either forgotten me, or just assumed I was on his side.

"Impressive," Thrawn simply said. "Very impressive indeed. And what do you propose to do now?"

My head began to feel dizzy, as if the static pressed on it from all sides. There was buzzing in my ears, and all I understood from the argument between Thrawn and C'baoth was 'five days to Coruscant'. That was not long at all. Five days to Coruscant. And then what? Five days to Bilbringi? That left me with less than two weeks to work with. Suddenly, I didn't know what to do at all. My lids drooped and I suppressed a yawn.

The voices reached me as if my head was wrapped up in thick padding. But when C'baoth told me to follow, my feet did it anyway. Maybe my feet had taken thinking upon themselves now so my head didn't have to bother with it.

"Mellanna."

Hearing Thrawn call my name felt like snapping out of a dream. I turned.

"Do you intend to keep my apprentice from me now, Grand Admiral?" C'baoth threatened.

"Not in the least, Master C'baoth," Thrawn replied. "For the coming five days she is all yours. I just wanted to remind her to tell her squad she won't be attending the briefings."

I was torn between throttling Thrawn and doing worse to him. Though, if the alternative was to face Dave, there was nothing I wanted to do more than spend five days in the immediate vicinity of a mad Dark Jedi.

"Jedi lead, and so will she," C'baoth declared. I felt his hand descend on my shoulder. "You are avoiding the briefings, Mellanna?" He wanted to know then.

Staring at my feet I nodded. "I'd much rather –"

"You are a Jedi," he hissed. "You are a leader, and lead you will. There is no exception. Now you will go to your men! They are nothing without you."

I did not agree with his assessment the least, but I knew he'd be adamant. Damn his Admiralship for manipulating him like that. "Okay," I nodded, still not looking up. "I will report to you afterwards."

He squeezed my shoulder painfully. "You will do that." Then he stalked off.

I hesitated, left alone with Barhekh. I considered looking back at Thrawn either accusingly, desperate or pleading, but then just sagged. There was no helping it anyway.

.

.

So this was what hell looked like. It was but a small room with grey walls. Only a table with a tactical display on it separated me from Dave. I _assumed_ it was a display because it was green and glowy. But I _knew_ it was Dave. My folded hands lay clenched in my lap.

"We have word from the team on Byss," he said.

I wished I could concentrate on the task at hand. Hearing his voice, being so close - it hurt. I was not sure if it was a blessing that I couldn't really see him or a curse. I just nodded unable to say anything.

"The report is detailed, but not very encouraging," Dave went on. The green light flickered and he pointed into the new display.

Did he realise I couldn't see anything? I licked my lips nervously, wondering if I could speak up without making a huge fool out of myself. I was almost shaking with self control, this would end badly.

"I am aware you cannot see the details right now," Dave saved me. "For the moment it is enough to realise that so far they have not been able to penetrate through the defences into the heart of the facility. Still there are a lot of Force users about." He pointed into the display at several different places.

"Force users or trained dark Jedi?" I got out.

"Unknown," Dave replied. "They keep the work forces in line, but also the troops should need arise. They have to be very careful around them, even inside their heads."

One of them was his brother. How did he stand it? I stared into the green glow trying not to think of the nameless clone risking his life for everybody else. And still being nameless. Just a clone. I realised, I needed a name to refer to and didn't have one, wouldn't get one from Dave either. He was a wonderful guy, but if he had any other name besides his number, he hadn't told me. Might never do so now either. I closed my eyes.

"Do you listen?" He asked immediately.

I nodded. "Can't see anything anyway," I whispered. See nothing, hear nothing, say nothing - _feel_ nothing; if only. "Are they -," I hesitated, "did they stay undetected?"

"They are still alive," Dave replied.

I tried to find some trace of relief about it in his voice but there was nothing. He was an absolute professional. It scared me, in a good way. Which was bad, in a very bad way. I wanted to curl up in his arms and just forget about Byss, cloned Emperors, Vong and especially his Grand Admiralship.

"What do you suggest we do against the Force users?"

My train of thought came to an abrupt halt against a wall. I shook my head, as if I could get rid of the images with Dave right in front of me. "Jedi? We can rely on Jusik, but that won't be enough." I tried to think of something that would not kill any clones but couldn't. "As many original clones as possible," I said beat. "They were made to kill Jedi."

"I think we can scratch C'baoth from the list of helpers," Dave said.

I almost chuckled. "You bet. With some luck he won't be around by then any more." An idea struck me. "Kyp, we could try to utilize him somehow."

There was a long silence. "Do you think it is a good idea?"

"I must think about it," I conceded. Kyp was not the most stable of people right now, and it was doubtful if he would be by the time we invaded Byss. And then I would need to discuss this with his Admiralship; if he had not thought of a plan already. Which he most likely had. I really didn't know what to do next and I couldn't concentrate on the subject at all. But I couldn't tell Dave. You didn't let personal problems get the better of you. Staring into the green glow, I prayed for the briefing to end.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	94. 094

Ninety-Four

I was running; running, running and running and getting nowhere. I had run out of tears a while ago already, but release was still nowhere in sight. The air burnt like fire when I inhaled, trying to keep up with the pace of the tread mill. I was not getting anywhere, but no place would have been far enough anyway. Closing my eyes I clenched my fingers around the rails; my body was tired alright, but my mind just didn't take the hint.

So on I went, even if that meant I would collapse right there. It was certainly a much better option than the emptiness of my bunk. Anything was better than that. I had thought that maybe C'baoth wanted to see me, but he was busy with very important Jedi business. Half-padawans like me were only getting in the way of that.

I opened my eyes again, staring into the void and hoping my brain would get the hint. It still didn't. One part wanted to weep and lash out at anything, while the other part yelled at it impatiently. I felt like standing between the two of them, mesmerised by the noise.

"Scream," somebody said behind me. "It helps."

I looked straight ahead and shook my head doggedly. Suddenly the treadmill stopped and I found myself running into the rails. When my head caught up with the fact, I turned to find the owner of the voice right beside me, his hand firmly over the controls for the walking machine.

"This is not going to help at all," he stated. "Some things have no override."

I bit my lip, staring at him; Toris. It might have been predictable that he should show up in a moment like this. So I was in need of my Sergeant now, tough care, hard truth and no special treatment. It was all so concerted that I wondered how he felt about being called from whatever duty he was at to make sure I didn't run amok. I was sorry and embarrassed.

"Go to your quarter, you need rest." He looked me up and down. "And shower."

"Yes, Sir!" I snapped into a salute and jogged off. It was not only the desire to run on but also the wish to get away from him. I didn't want people to go out of their way for me. Well, of course I did, but no because they were told to. It didn't help at all.

A short while later I lay in my bunk, still unable to sleep. I wondered if it was okay to ask you bodyguard to knock you out. They had to be good for _some_thing. I fell asleep mulling over the decision.

.

.

.

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!!_

It felt as if I had just closed my eyes. I groaned and tried to find a reason to turn over and just sleep on. There was none. The world around me was blurry, as if I had forgotten to put my contact lenses in. Maybe poetic licence could do only so much. Staring at the ceiling I wondered if the end of the trilogy also implied the end of my time here.

It was an unsettling thought, especially since the idea it would _not _herald the end of my stay was worrying me less than the idea that it would. Yes, I would be back home with my boyfriend and blue aliens be bleeped, but what about all those changes I had made? Would things work out? It was not that my presence was crucial to the plan, there was pathetically little I could do, but without me around, who'd check the ambitions of Thrawn? Not Rhukh, that much was certain. Come to think of it, I had no safety net at all. I wondered if it would still matter when I was back home. It might not amount to anything more than me having a whole new EU to read through; with a lot more of Thrawn in it.

It was just a story, I told myself. Even if I was in it now, it would be just a story again once I got out. It had nothing to do with me. Except that I would wish to die each time I saw the picture of a clone. That was a bad idea with the animated series around. Plus conventions might be awkward for a while, not to mention not mentioning meeting all those people here. But other than that, it would be just as before.

"You need to get up." Barhekh's face suddenly loomed over me. "Time is short."

He was completely right there. I tried to shake the worries and worries about not worrying that worried me even more. I should be torn about the prospect of going home or staying, but what I anguished over was Dave. Maybe somebody needed to put my priorities straight. I stumbled into the officers' mess and grabbed a tray.

"Countenance, Ms. Morrison," a well-known voice came from behind me. "Do not let anybody ever see you in this – state."

Who had let Seros into the same officers' mess as me? And who gave him the right to criticise my early morning grumpiness? I was simply not functioning before my first cup of tea. "Does that mean I should have breakfast in my quarter?"

He huffed. "Of course not! This is about how you present yourself; at all times."

I almost dropped my tea when something poked me between the shoulder blades.

"Stand straight," he ordered. "And don't look so unaffable. You are now, always and at all times, representing the Empire. So up with the chin and the corners of your mouth."

"I want to die," I murmured.

"That is not an option," came the prompt reply. "So shut up. I approve of tea as potation," he went on and started placing food on my tray. His choice was rather far from anything I would have taken. "This is a traditional breakfast," he explained. "Let's see how you do with it."

Oh, wonderful. The joy of my early mornings: getting breakfast supervision. I wanted to flop down on my chair, but Seros was watching. Of all the possible ways to sit down at a table gracefully, I knew none. At least he didn't insist on helping me with the chair. That always looked so easy, but the choreography behind it was hell. If you made one mistake, the guy was rattling at a chair you were firmly seated upon. Which was, of course, not _comme il faut_ at all. I decided to just do what I always did and take the berating.

"That is almost good," Seros said to my surprise, "but you need to work on your head. You can't stare at the table and food as if it was the only thing in the room. Keep your head up, look around, and make sure eye contact can be made the whole time."

I nodded, about to take up the cutlery and get the next slating.

"What are you waiting for," Seros said. "Get up and practice."

Was he serious? Exercises before breakfast? That was all kinds of wrong. Tentatively, I got up again and he nodded encouragingly. Oh bother. There was no helping it, though if I wanted my breakfast.

"Don't look so insecure," Seros immediately told me. "Keep that chin up and I cannot see you smile."

As if smiles grew on trees. In the morning, my smiles stayed in bed at least an hour longer than me. It was also very difficult not to be unsure under his watchful eyes. I almost stumbled over my own feet and reaped a shake of the head.

"Again," Seros ordered.

By the time I finally got to eat everything was cold, even my tea. Glaring at Seros, I decided to ignore his advice until I had eaten. If I did anything wrong there, let him make me repeat that!

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	95. 095

**Note**: Had to do a minor edit because of later continuity. I don't think many will notice.  
Thank you Shakatan. People like you make this fun. :D

* * *

Ninety-Five

Of course I did not have to repeat the eating. How unexpected. Judging from Seros' face, that was not so much due to my eating abilities but more meant to be a punishment for them. I was worried he'd start following me around to correct my bearing all the time. I'd suddenly have two people watching my every step. At least Barhekh didn't order me around the whole time.

Instead he _led _me around; one and the same thing. I ended up at Thrawn's door again, deciding that I spent too much time with that man lately. The language lessons might occupy my head just fine, but there was always a part of me screaming desperately. I did not want this! I knew myself; I'd be doing that until the inevitable was over. I prayed it would be soon, disregarding the fact that it would take forever.

The one good thing about learning Cheunh, which actually did sound like a spoken sneeze if articulated correctly, was that I knew how to greet my Grand Admiral now. It was far from formal, though mostly because I couldn't wrap my tongue around all those words yet. A real formal greeting took some time, because everybody was very careful to mention all titles and important connections; all the time. It did remind me of the 'Glove of Darth Vader' series which kept repeating Luke's accomplishments every time he was mentioned. Do I need to say, I was very annoyed with that?

"Kaw'are'anat, Thrawn," I said as I approached him. That translated roughly into 'I know/see who you are, where you are and why and can see right through your colour pattern into your guilty conscience'. Okay, I had just amed up the alst part of that, but coming from Thrawn it was obviously included.

"Kaw'era'anate, Mellanna," he replied. "A'tnant'eohr," he went on smiling.

Still I was not sure it was a compliment. "A'rare." It was the only other sentence I remembered, probably because I used it so often. '_So you say_.' Depending on the tone it was everything from agreement to challenging the other to a duel.

"I do indeed, and I must know." He turned to one of the displays, changing it's colour. "It cannot be helped right now, though. There are more important things."

So it had not been anything nice. Why was I not surprised? I looked at the display which was glaringly yellow.

"Chaffar," he said, indicating the monitor.

So this would be colours and maybe patterns. When I could barely say 'hello'. Taking things slow was obviously not something that happen to his Admiralship. Accordingly, the next hours were spent with endless repetitions. Those Chiss have a lot of names for a lot of colours. Each shade seemed to have its own name. It did make some sense, though, considering they kept each other apart by colours.

I was happy when I was finally released. If each lesson would go like that, headaches would be a constant companion to me soon. Rubbing my temples, I tried to memorise the colours of the houses at least. Maybe I should just take notes on my pad next time, or when I could see again. That would help. Or flash cards, I worked very well with flash cards.

Instead of the med bay, I found myself at C'aboth's quarters next. That was no good, I had thought training would be in the specially prepared rooms. I felt safer there even if that was but an illusion; nothing Thrawn had would stop an enraged C'baoth except a Ysalamir. And those were stationed at strategically more important places.

"Master C'baoth," I greeted him with a bow. I was not as happy to see him now that the alternative was not a meeting with Dave any more. I closed my eyes shortly. _Just don't think of Dave_, I told myself. _Really, don't._

"Ah, Mellanna," he replied with a nod. "I see you have accepted your duty as a leader as you should. Tell me about the mission."

My mouth opened before I could help it. "We have to infiltrate Byss. Emperor Palpatine is trying to reincarnate into clone bodies there. Too bad they're all mad as hatters. So we have to stop him before he can wreak mayhem."

C'baoth eyed me thoughtfully. "I see. And what is your role in this?"

If only I knew. "I am coordinating the efforts." Had I just said that? Hubris or what? "After planning the best approach with the factions I will then lead the attack." Hello, brain? I would certainly not _do_ that. My abilities as a commanding officer were non-existent. And who in his right mind would even bother to listen to me?

"I see." He stroked his beard. "So Palpatine wants to return."

"Who can blame him?" I burst out. "Dropping to death after your faithful servant cast you down a bottomless shaft does probably leave you with the urge to return and kick some butt. I guess it is a traumatic experience, especially if it's your last."

"And Grand Admiral Thrawn wants to stop him," he half asked.

I nodded. "An insane Emperor is a danger to the Empire. Serious damage can be done by EOS, and the erratic killing of officers can leave quite a dent in your competent leadership." I was blabbering, and I didn't seem to be able to stop it. "Plus he is a Sith."

"You need not worry, my Padawan," he assured me. "I can understand your motives, and for the last one, I agree with it. Sith cannot be allowed to hold sway over the people of the galaxy."

I wondered if he really believed it or if he just said it because it was a valid reason for him to get rid of another aspirant of the Imperial throne and if it even mattered why he agreed. "I am scared," I admitted.

"Fear is but an indicator of danger," C'baoth lectured. "I will help you overcome it." He called upon a lightsaber and it hovered in the air before me. "You need to be confident, Mellanna. And for that, you need to be competent." The saber ignited.

Turning on my own blade I got ready for a very long and scary lesson in fighting an invisible enemy. But he was right, I dearly needed some practice. At least lightsabers glowed and I could see them, approximately, even with my eyes still not completely healed.

The blades clashed and the power of the impact forced ma a step backwards.

"Don't retreat!" C'baoth yelled. "You are the master of the fight, you will overcome the enemy. Go!"

If only it was that easy. I tried to hold my ground against the violent attacks, but was just glad I managed to fend them all off without losing any limbs. It might be all the rage in SW to lose a hand or arm, but I was sure not keen on it. And since C'baoth was not really fighting at all, there was no hope of trying that on my opponent either.

Soon I was covered in sweat, if still whole. C'baoth seemed to be doing something else completely, as if the saber was on remote control. Those Jedi powers sure were mightily convenient. I really wished I had them.

"I know."

I froze and the only reason the other saber didn't cut off any vital bits was because C'baoth looked up and stopped it an inch from my throat. I wondered how deep in _osik_ I was.

"That is your problem, Mellanna, you do not believe." He got up and crossed the room picking the lightsaber out of the air. "Your lack of faith will always be a barrier. You need to leave it behind you." He shut down the saber. "Leave me now, I have important matters to attend to."

"Yes Master." I bowed deeply. "Thank you, Master, I will meditate and work on the barrier."

He nodded approvingly as I left, panting. My stomach grumbled, but I decided that if Seros was to pop up unexpectedly at lunch again, I'd rather be clean. So I headed for my room to have a sonic.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	96. 096

**Note**: There's the whole of nine words of Cheunh in canon; three of those being ranks and two denoting Corellia/Corellian. Therefore I am making up Cheunh as I go along.  
I try to keep it coherent, translations will be provided where necessary or on demand.

* * *

Ninety-Six

Seros did not show up to lecture me for lunch. He had probably realised what a danger that would pose to my health not to mention his. Afterwards I got to return to my quarter and get back to repeating my language lessons. _Ut'atare_, I say. _At'atare_, you say; provided you were of the same rank as me, because if you were not this would have been social suicide right there.

Those crazy Chiss had a gazillion of pronouns all depending on whether 'you' shared the status of the speaker, was lower or higher ranking or even - God beware - from a different family. Of course they all sounded about the same. I stared at the monitor where images of different outfits filed past like an ugly screen saver. Why did they have to be so complicated?

I didn't want to learn Cheunh. I didn't care for that highly formal system of address and rank. I didn't want to be here and stare at the screen listening to the voice in my head telling me how to keep all those patterns apart - in Cheunh. Bother.

I wanted to see Dave; wanted to hear his voice. Hold him and hide my face against his chest, hearing him say everything would be fine. I clenched my fists, suppressing the urge to scream. Chiss swearwords, _that_ was something I could use now. Maybe I should just go and beat somebody up. If that didn't mean - well it didn't, did it? There must be hundreds of gyms on board, hundreds of places to go.

But if I didn't go now, I never would. I could not avoid Dave forever, and if I did stayed away that sent its very own message. I didn't feel strong enough to lose him completely. I didn't feel strong enough to face him. I didn't dare hurl my emotional turmoil at him and didn't want to do anything else. But I would not. I closed my eyes. Because I would be strong and face it; stand it; take it. Even if a me like that had never existed - I would keep my head up and go on. I shut down the terminal and took a deep breath. It could only hurt so bad.

It did not. At least, that's what I told myself as I entered the gym, Barhekh floating behind me almost invisible. He got more glances than I ever had. Spending so much time here had brought one advantage, the others might remind me painfully of Dave, but I knew they were not him. I didn't even need a second look. I was locked in a room with lookalikes, but that didn't hurt as bad as facing Dave himself. So I would live. So what.

I put on some fingerless gloves to protect my knuckles. If I had learnt one thing then it was that rage and frustration killed my technique; I'd just get bloody knuckles again. Remembering what had happened the last time, I'd rather avoid that; I still couldn't see clear again. I wanted my old haunts back, my old songs to cope with my old problems. From this perspective, I _liked_ my old problems.

They were different things completely, telling yourself it was over, believing it and accepting it; not to mention being over it. I pummelled the punching bag, my teeth clenched together. All I had to do - in theory - was channelling the anger into something useful. It just didn't work. I was hitting the sack into next week but still had trouble keeping myself together. One word, and I'd be right back at crying my frigging stupid heart out. This was so wrong. I was in need of a miracle and aware it would never happen. My fists battered the punching bag.

"Still not getting anywhere." The sneer was unmistakeable.

I paused and found Lyk standing next to the punching bag. At least he reminded me more of an evil Wolverine or van Hellsing than Dave. Possibly because both were played by Hugh Jackmann. Still, a very evil Hugh Jackmann was a weak comparison. I shrugged, shaking my wrists. "Sorry about that."

"Not enough by far. You'll gonna get us all killed."

"I hope not," I replied.

"Doing anything against that?"

"The best I can."

"Not good enough."

"Show me then."

There was a short silence. "Only an easy one, not going to overtax you." He went through a short series of moves. "Hit, block, kick, check. Get it?"

I nodded.

"Go! Hit, block, kick, check, hit, block, kick, check, hit - technique! If you get it wrong it'll hurt. Does it hurt? I bet it does. And where do you aim that kick at? Check, hit, block - wrong again..."

He was right, getting things wrong did hurt. The block got tangled up in the hit, my kick went wide of the aim and then my check was off which meant his arm would crash into my wrist. And it did. Not that it bothered Lyk any. No matter how bad my execution was, he just went on in the drill. After a while we found a steady rhythm and my technique achieved a state of almost being okay.

Which was not quite what Lyk had been aiming for, since he started to break the rhythm and speed up or slow the sequence at will. I started flailing again and my head refused to react to what my eyes told him was going on instead of the rhythm that had been so nice and predictable

"Okay, now inverted." Lyk didn't even wait for me to react but started the exercise over with the left.

It took me a while to change the routine. It didn't take that long from my left arm to hurt as bad as the right one. If this was but a glimpse of official stormtrooper training, it did not surprise me any more that they were so completely trained and uncompromising. There was no space for doubt; no time to think. After a while I didn't really think any more, I just reacted, tried to match Lyk's speed and not get hurt.

"This will never work." He stopped suddenly and I had to catch myself not to hit him in the face. How quick you fell into routines.

He left me still shaking his head. But he was wrong. It didn't matter. He might still think me a complete failure, but he had trained with me. I rubbed my hurting forearms. It might not mean anything to him. He might just think it a lesson for me. But you say what you say, the other will still hear what he hears. Fundamental rule of communication.

I returned to my quarter, had another sonic and laid down. My arms throbbed and partially drowned out my head, which was a good thing. Still I wanted my songs back. But there was no way to get them, there was only me. I closed my eyes and softly began to sing to myself under my breath. But I didn't know anything but the chorus of 'Antidote', 'Limelight' just didn't cut it and nothing I knew related to miracles in any way. Finally I settled on 'Unintended' not even able to begin to fathom when I'd have the pieces of my life back together.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

* * *

Antidote by Project Pitchfork  
Limelight by Alan Parsons Project  
Uninteded by Muse


	97. 097

Ninety-Seven

The next day my forearms were black and blue, but their constant throbbing gave me something to focus. Something that kept my mind from spinning, an anchor to keep me grounded.

By the time I arrived in the officers' mess, Seros was already there. How very convenient it had to be, to always know where I was, when and in which direction I was moving; it made it incredibly easy to place everybody in position on time. I felt a bit like Truman. I wondered if it would be possible to get breakfast brought to my room. Knowing his Admiralship, it was not.

I took the tray Seros handed me and went to the nearest table, making sure my smile never left my face. It only took a few attempts until I was allowed to stay seated.

The food looked only slightly edible. There was goo of a very nice Imperial grey colour. There were bits in it that could be nuts and bits of fruit that looked like papaya that had seen too much radiation all around in its life. On another plate I had sliced fruit, or vegetables, I was never sure about that distinction here; there was a glass of a very green liquid and tea. Again it was not konto tea, such a bother. I poked the grey glob. It wobbled suspiciously.

"Now about the correct way to eat a traditional core breakfast," Seros said and pointed at my tray.

"I didn't know there was a wrong way to eat grey goo," I replied.

"It is porridge," he informed me. "And you do not look as if you have seen any before."

He was right there. I had heard of porridge, of course, though I was not really sure if it was supposed to be sweet or salty. Carefully I dipped the spoon into the grey stuff. To my amazement, it didn't stick together too badly. It was possible to get a small serving onto the spoon and it didn't even drip.

"Not quite," Seros interrupted me. "What do you think that is for?" He pointed at the glass.

"I thought it's juice and I would drink it," I answered.

"Almost. You pour it over the porridge." He took the glass and poured some the green liquid into the bowl.

I dipped my spoon into it again, trying to catch some of it before it was absorbed by the pap. In retrospect, I wished I hadn't. The porridge was good, slightly sweet; it reminded me of semolina pudding. The greed liquid on the other hand was sour and bitter. It completely ruined the sweet morning porridge experience.

"I assume it's an acquired taste," I said after taking a big swallow of tea.

"Indeed," he agreed. "And you only have a few weeks to acquire it."

I stared at the bowl. "Can I at least get used to it with some konot tea? Or is that below my assumed status?"

"Konot tea has a strong stimulating effect. You do not want to get used to it," he told me.

"Like hell, I don't," I murmured under my breath. It was amazing, but I was rather happy when breakfast was over. This green stuff really could turn your day sour before it really started.

At least my eyes were only almost back at normal. Everything was fuzzy as soon as it was a source of light even my monitor gave me a disoriented feeling. Bright lights were a lot worse still. I was just glad there was no bright white light around, or the glaring ones that seemed to have a blue tint even. And the light at the end of the tunnel, well, I couldn't look at it anyway, so it didn't really matter that somebody had turned it off.

So I just spent my time trying not to mix up what Thrawn and Seros taught me. Who would have thought that, to be considered cultured, you had to know at least a gazillion different forms of address? Not to mention that I could barely say anything in Chenuh except 'hello', though _that_ I could say in a hundred different ways.

Most of my free time was spent memorising lists of vocabulary. It was hard work getting my head to remember so many new words each day on top of everything else. But turning the _nele_ of a dress tunic into a _neile_ degraded the whole family inside the complicated hierarchy of the house in question. Not to mention that the fact if it ran from left to right or the other way round spoke volumes. Of course, it all depended on the way your _nele_ was applied on the tunic, if you already had one.

The only thing I could remember easily was that there were no tunics in the colour of a house. The Chaf's didn't wear yellow; the Mitth's didn't wear burgundy. You wore grey if you were on a diplomatic career, the more of your house colour your robe showed, the more important you were. If there was no grey left to see, you were the Mac of Macs. In the military on the other hand, the more black you wore, the more important you were _in the army_. So black with red adornments was General, Admiral and upwards, whereas red with black bits meant you were a grunt. The real challenge was to find and interpret the pattern. A very elaborate game of 'Where is Walter' though his Admiralship did insist though, that he was, right then, just showing the easy patterns.

The rest of the days were spent with Seros, C'baoth and Arn; unfortunately in that order. I could train again, but the time I got for that was very, very little. Arn didn't look happy either. It seemed as if we were both caught up in unpleasant business and tried to relax during training. Only that he couldn't talk and I got bored of complaining on the second day. There was nothing to be done anyway. The day C'baoth became a nice and balanced person was the day that hell froze.

At least the mad Jedi didn't make me use the lightsaber all the time. He planned a new Empire and the only help I could be to him there was getting rid of the other Emperor. I don't think C'baoth would have made a good Sith, he didn't like the Rule of two any. He preferred to be the only ruler about, no apprentices, only servants. Lucky me that I filled that gap nicely.

Seros took it upon himself to polish my eating habits and manners and graced all my mealtimes with his presence. Driven by the urge not to starve, I had to adapt to his ideals of table manners. The upside of it was the introduction of several course menus. Not that I got to eat most of them while it was still hot. Not that I came around to eating a lot anyway. There was a circle of hell called table Conversation, created especially for me. Since I had nothing sensible to say, Seros did most of the talking and demanded I inform myself with the holonews.

At least this mad schedule kept me occupied; well, mostly. In the evenings I had some time to myself to recapitulate on everything I was supposed to memorise. Capitulating was on my mind more often during those hours, but given the schedule ahead, there was just no time for that. Still, sitting alone in my quarter, there was no denying the loneliness. Something that had not mattered much before because I hadn't had somebody in mind to fill it. Now I had, but couldn't. Mustn't. And still wanted.

I stared at the images formal dress tunics on my display. Then I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. I could not let myself be distracted. I needed to concentrate; needed to get myself back on track, or rather onto a very new one.

That was fine, I would be fine; I always ended up fine. Give me a few months and it would all be yesterday's dreams. The Hoff started singing his infamous song in my head and I was surprised to realise I actually knew the complete lyrics. The stuff you remembered - it was scary. It was as well I didn't have to build a society from the bits of culture I had left. That would not end well.

I tried to focus on the patterns again, following the course of the _nele_ from the right shoulder, marking the wearer to be maternally related with the house. About waist height the _daran_ mixed up with the _nele_ and the _palei_ were drawn down almost all the way from the shoulders to the hem. I had never been that good with describing patterns and the fact that those were merging with each other all the time did not make it any easier.

It did not surprise me that there were no words for those patterns in basic; we just had no need for them whatsoever. To the Chiss it made a huge difference if the _palei_ resembled a houndstooth more than herringbone pattern. Not to mention that he'd be offended if his hem did not cross-reference the _tarn_ of the whole outfit. I banged my head softly against the console. Nightmares, worse than those after playing too much Tetris, awaited me. I already saw myself swallowed by a living paisley.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	98. 098

Ninety-Eight

After four days of teaching me Cheunh, Thrawn decided to talk to me in it exclusively. If I hadn't had any problems understanding what he wanted form me already, I surely would have had then. Okay, it was a treat to listen to, but that lasted only until I was supposed to answer. One word answers were going okay, but everything else was just not working.

"_Kiurohan'oki'natanmor'khei'uban, olumanera'nof'foronekinata'nok tan'__ā__kate_i."

"Von mir aus kannst du es dir an den Hut stecken," I replied thoroughly frustrated.

"_Uthe'ikiur'enok __tatast'etast'anere_," he chided.

"Sag ich ja." I crossed the arm across my chest. "Und es ist nicht lustig."

"_A'rare_," he replied and I was one hundred percent certain his eyes did that amused flash-thingy. "_Uam'ereh'oka'kina'tei atak'iurem'aratane'nantera._"

"Von mir aus können wir das ewig so weiter machen," I declared.

"_Ug'asaher'emorek. Teihe'ikiur'ekosk'osam'nat__laore'ra'kiuhe_." He pointed at the display again. "_Teiher__a'asap kikub'esoler'ehakatenu'aherek'iure heif'oreh'rer'iti hakatem'orer'etana._"

"Na, wenn du drauf bestehst." I folded my arm before my chest.

"Mellanna, don't be so stubborn," he switched back to basic. "This is important and your attitude does not help any."

"Nor is your speaking only Cheunh," I pointed out. "I just don't understand a word of it. So how am I supposed to answer anything?"

"Use your head," he replied. "And the vocabulary and grammar files you got."

"I _am_," I insisted, "but I am not that fast!"

"You better work on that then." He pointed back at the display. "The house and pattern, Mellanna."

Maybe it would have been easier if he had not been right. I did have to learn this impossibly complicated language and I didn't have much time at all. But that didn't mean I had to like it. Uncrossing my arms I stared at the monitor. "_Heipalenaraneian_ –" I thought for a second, " _offoronekinatanuruodo – do_." I ended the sentence not sure if I had used a verb or if that was even necessary.

"A'tnant'eohr'ainei," Thrawn replied. As if I didn't know. "_Heip'alenara'nei_ _anof'foronekinatan'uruodo_."

I closed my eyes concentrating on the pronunciation. Why, oh why, did they have to turn everything into one long word? It was worse than reading 'Das Glasperlenspiel' by Hermann Hesse. I tried again but had to take a breath halfway though. "_Heip'alenara'neia -_ _nof'foronekinatan'uruodo_."

"_Heit'akata_," he nodded.

And so it went on until I couldn't tell an 'r' from a 't' anymore. And _then_ I got to write the whole stuff down. At least I was not required to use the Cheunh writing. That looked even worse than Chinese and hieroglyphs combined. Still the sheer amount of apostrophes in basic was ridiculous; especially since there were none if writing in Cheunh.

"It is just to help you," Thrawn insisted. "In proper writing the words are combined into larger ideograms, their outlines all but vanish." He pointed at a complicated arrangement of lines. "_Anof'foronekinatan_, Ruling House." With a few commands the lines fell apart into two smaller ideograms. "_Ano, foronekinatane_. House and to lead." After another command there were even more smaller bits. "_Ano, fore, neret, kinatan_: House, to go, first, right. _Ano, fore, neret, kiure, nata_. House, to go, first, to be, good."

My head swam as I tried to follow the breakdown of the expression. Why would anybody want to make it so difficult? I rubbed my eyes. "Did anybody ever tell you that this is pretty ridiculous?"

"Not in any language we deign to accept, no." On the display the lines compounded back into a single ideogram. If you knew where to look, you could still see them; with some imagination.

"Why does that not surprise me," I murmured.

"Because you are quick on the uptake," he replied. "The reason, I am actually considering this to work." He pointed back at the display. "Motivation and discipline still need a lot of work, though."

"I'm on it, Admiral, believe me." I sighed. "I'm on it."

"Good, proceed then."

And I did, even if it would get me several knots in the tongue. Motivation, discipline, keeping focussed on the target. Which was? I tried to remember, but lumps of incredibly long Cheunh clogged my mind. Why couldn't I learn Mando, that had to be easier. But Mandos had to fight and I was worse at that than I was at language learning. From a purely reasonable point of view, this was the better choice. I glanced at Thrawn. I hated reasonable.

After a very long morning of knotting my tongue up in interesting ways, I was finally allowed to go. I decided to bathe it in tea, and went to the nearest officers' mess. I studied my pad as I sipped on my tea, but there was nothing else scheduled. Maybe I should comm Arn and see if he had time to train.

But first I would drop in at C'baoth's. I was playing good padawan after all. I found the Dark Jedi in the prepared rooms, Thrawn had provided him with. He leaned over a display, speaking softly. But as soon as he felt me approach, he straightened up. "Mellanna, I will be with you presently."

"Yes, Master." I took the hint and stayed where I was. Patience was the one thing I could provide in abundance.

Finally he turned off the terminal. "You are anxious and confused," he said as he approached.

"Yes, Master," I nodded. "I find it difficult to concentrate."

"And why is that?"

I thought of Dave and shook my head, trying to chase his image away. "I let myself be distracted from my goals and -" I shrugged helplessly. "I don't have an anchor any more."

He gave me a stern glance. "_You _are the anchor, the Force is your anchor. You don't need anybody to anchor you."

I stared at my feet. If only. I did need something to concentrate one, something to work on towards, a goal to reach. It kept me focussed, gave me direction, it made me feel like a useful person. It was my personal drug.

"You cannot let others determine what your goals are," C'baoth lectured. "You can only trust yourself."

If that was not the truth. "Yes, Master."

"What is your goal?"

"Save the galaxy." It did sound easy said like that. Not to mention a bit megalomaniac and crazy. Somehow I didn't think C'baoth would mind.

"Good," he nodded. "And how will you achieve that?"

"With the Empire." I had no other reply, because, truth be told I couldn't think of any other resources.

"So what will your future demand of you?"

I knew the answer to that and it was innocent enough around him. "To serve the Empire, body and soul."

He nodded. "You cannot be distracted by your whims. You have to focus. You need absolute commitment."

"I am afraid of that," I admitted.

"Don't try to fool me, Mellanna," he chided. "You are not; you are only scared to admit to it. Once won, your commitment is complete, as is your loyalty; which makes you such a valuable asset."

I stared at my feet.

"That is what you have to concentrate on, Mellanna. Forget that man; forget your own wishes and aspirations. Your duty to the Empire must be your sole focus."

I sat down, cross-legged and closed my eyes. How amazing to get help from the only man around of whom I didn't want to learn anything. But he was right. If I concentrated only on my assignment, if I banned everything else from my mind, then I could just move on.

Somehow that was a lot easier with C'baoth around. He was a prime incentive to keep my thought clean and focussed on the future of the Empire. It was not that bad. It really was not. _A'rare._

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

* * *

**Note**: Yes, I know what I am saying (that's just German) and what Thrawn is saying, too. Making up Cheunh in a pain in the rear but some kinds of rewarding. Translations could probably be provided. *whistles innocently and laughs up her sleeve*


	99. 099

Ninety-Nine

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!!_

I pulled the blanket over my head, trying to hold on to the last fragments of a dream which consisted mostly of a warm sense of safety and belonging. I felt the urge to turn over and chase them down, force them to bring me back to that happy security where I didn't have to do anything but to be. C'baoth's words echoed in my mind about being my own anchor, and hearing his voice inside my head made getting up happen very fast.

But he was wrong. He could try to centre me all he wanted, focus me on whatever lay ahead and tell me to be taken up completely with my duties, but that would not help. I could not be my own anchor. It just didn't work. I needed something to achieve. As soon as I actually was something, I tended to forget how it felt to wish for it. My inner fangirl came up with the brilliant plan of making his Admiraship really like me. I sniggered. Though he would sure enough start to act as if he liked me some time soon. It was all part of the plan.

Getting bothered by Seros during breakfast seemed to be an inherent part of the plan, too. It was obviously flawed in more than one respect. I was no closer to liking that and hoped dearly that Seros would introduce me to different kinds of traditional breakfast soon. I would have no objections if it resembled British breakfast; fried tomatoes and all. Staring at the glob before me even those suspicious sausages seemed like a good idea.

At least I had a very good reason to do small talk. The more I talked the less I could eat. If Seros noticed, he didn't say. Maybe his interest in globs of grey was of a purely academic nature. I had not seen him eat any so far. Not that I would blame him.

Instead of twisting my tongue with that sneeze of a language I got a chance to get my arms twisted exercising with Arn. "You seem distracted," I said, trying to save myself from some of his more sloppy attacks.

"The end is nigh," he replied.

"As if I didn't know it," I sighed.

"Everything is hanging on a slim thread; it's not a pleasant feeling."

"Only for those who know," I objected, beginning to fear for the inviolacy of my fingers.

"The tension is all over the ship, all over the fleet," Arn said. "We are heading towards Coruscant, everybody is expecting an decisive battle."

"Not yet," I answered quietly, "not yet." I wanted to ignore this for as long as possible, but Arn was right. I could feel it as I went through the corridors of the _Chimera_; a tense anticipation, coiled up expectations ready to spring. I was concentrating on the tension so much, I only saw C'baoth when he was already standing directly in front of me.

"I am leaving," he declared. "As soon as my ship is ready I shall go to Wayland."

I had no idea what to say. "But Master." It seemed to be a good start.

"No, you cannot come." He was final. "I need you on board of this ship."

Now he had me worried. "Yes, Master. What are your orders?"

He looked at me intently and I got a very bad feeling about this. Either he was going to ask something impossible, or just leave me with some kind of last orders like Palps did with Mara. I hoped for the impossible.

A half mad, half vicious smile crept onto his face. "The Grand Admiral has twisted plans, but we shall foil them without him noticing. Play along, my Padawan, he will not notice." He laid a hand on my shoulder. "But when the time is right, you will know what to do."

"I will? How will I know, Master?" Crazy mind-controlling conditioning was straight ahead and I didn't see a way around it. Great, just great.

"I will tell you, and you will know. Trust me, my padawan." He nodded to himself. "Now I have to go and prepare a future. For you too, Mellanna as loneliness is not a state you properly function in."

He turned and left without an explanation. I just hoped he didn't intend to clone me a husband or something. I could already see Mellanna/Luuke crack!fics. Maybe he just considered getting me my own grunt, seeing how attachment led to the dark side and I possibly just needed distraction. I was still trying to wrestle C'baoth's words into something that did not spell out doom and embarrassment when Barhekh softly touched my hand.

"You need to move on," he growled.

I nodded and went on, finding myself steered subtly into the direction of the next turbolift. So no language classes today? I wondered what could put his Admiralship off his torturing sessions. I was wondering even more when I ended up on the bridge. What the-?

Just in time I remembered to snap to attention and salute. It was most likely a very bad idea to talk to his Admiralship in strange tongues nobody around understood. "Sir?" I couldn't help but give it a questioning tone.

The Grand Admiral just gave me a nod and concentrated on leading his fleet. I was not sure why I was on the bridge, it was not as if I had something sensible to add to the surrounding order. The fleet jumped to light speed before his Admiralship deigned me worthy of any attention.

"Your presence is surprising not only you," he explained. "But it is better to do so now than have everybody wonder later."

I nodded feeling rather stupid. That was no wonder around somebody like Thrawn, but that didn't mean I had to like it. I didn't. I liked being intelligent. "What do you want me to do?" I didn't expect standing around and looking surprised would be enough.

"You would be most usefully out of the way at battle coordination," he said.

I followed his gaze to a nearby crew pit and snapped into a salute. "Yes, Sir."

Pelly winced as I did that, but I decided to ignore him and stride purposefully towards my assigned position. A young officer gestured towards a console and to my surprise a face I knew grinned up at me.

"Private, Morrison, let me introduce you to the work station before the actual battle starts." Zeth almost winked.

I threw a quick glance at Thrawn but if he kept an eye on what I did he did not show. I slipped onto the chair next to Zeth nodding happily. "Go ahead."

Coordinating a battle was very complicated business, even with no battle at hand. After the first few minutes my head began to jumble bits of information, though I tried to keep looking as if everything was fine. "How's Kyp?" I finally asked softly.

Zeth glanced around before flashing me a smile. "Okay." He seemed to think for a moment. "Thanks, but I think you better tell me what the type tracking is for now."

Trying to hide my disappointment I cobbled together three of the seven advantages of type tracking. Before Zeth could update me on the rest the bridge fell silent as if to a command I had missed. Most eyes turned to look at Pellaeon and Thrawn. And man, did they look like competence incarnate in the middle of the bridge.

"Is my flagship ready, Captain?" Thrawn's voice sounded through the bridge.

"The _Chimera_ is fully at your command, Admiral," Pellaeon replied.

It said about everything about me that this simple exchange turned me into a puddle of fangirly goo. Imperial procedure; it was just too beautiful, provided you didn't have to adhere to it.

Thrawn nodded curtly. "Engage."

The mottled hyperspace snapped back into proper stars. Coruscant lay ahead, enveloped in a cloud of ships that broke up as soon as we appeared; either jumping into hyperspace or scrambling towards the ground. All around me the bridge erupted into noise, like the hum of a very busy hive.

The screen in front of Zeth was brimming with small icons suddenly and he was doing his best to drop me a hint now and then as to what he was doing while keeping up with the pace of the battle.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	100. 100

**Note**: Thank you all for bearing with me for so long. I'd promise the end to be nigh, but, alas, it is not so. Here is hoping you will like the rest of the gazillion updates anyway.

* * *

One Hundred

It was close to impossible to make sense from the data the monitor showed. Small dots of a lot of colours moved over it erratically and size was not indicated at all. A fighter next to one of those huge battlestations was just a red blip beside a green blip; or a blue one, or yellow. I was not really sure how the colour coding was working. Maybe it was different depending on which bit of the battle you monitored what way.

I tried to split my attention between Zeth's occasional explanations and the information flying around. It was difficult to hear anything Thrawn or Pellaoen said with the buzz of battle echoing through the bridge. I hadn't expected it to be so loud, or maybe that was because I was now down in the crew pits and the noise didn't carry well if you were standing above.

"They are pulling the dreadnaughts back," Zeth said, indicating a few moving blips on his monitor.

"What does that mean?" I stared at the display, but the moving lights looked all the same to me. There was such a commotion, that I almost lost track of the retreating ships.

"Strategically?" He shrugged. "I don't know. But now their battle stations have to take more of the assault."

"Can they?"

"Possibly. Look here." He pointed at several groups of lights. "The Golan defence platforms are more robust and with assault cruisers to keep other warships at a distance, they can do a lot of damage. Fighters are not much of a threat, but they do have their own squadrons to fight back those, too."

The moving lights didn't make much more sense than before. I wished there was big label on the battle station so I could recognise it immediately instead of having to deduct it from its lack of movement. Still, movement was the surest thing by which to tell what kind of ship I was looking at.

"They are not very mobile," I finally said. "What if you moved the Star Destroyers around them, you know to a more convenient angle?"

"We got three dimensions to work with, yes. It's easy to forget," Zeth said. "But the constructors of those stations did not. Right now we do not see the canons mounted to cover the remaining directions, but they exist. This is not an attack aimed at destruction or even victory."

That I knew and for a while I just watched the display and listened to Zeth's status reports. Suddenly the screen went blank but for an image of Coruscant.

"Tracking initialised," Zeth announced and one by one little dots appeared around the planet. Most of them were red, but a few were green. I guessed those were the asteroids and calculated orbits of the not-really-asteroids.

Suddenly one of the red dots started blinking. "Contact on sixteen," Zeth announced.

"An EF76 Nebulon-B escort frigate," another voice chimed in.

"They'll try to capture that one," I said softly.

Zeth only nodded, pointing. "No chance in hell." With a sudden the light winked out. "It's destroyed, but they know what we put up around them now. Should keep them from doing anything stupid."

I bit my lip not to blurt out the first thing on my mind which were all those people trying to find the gazillion of asteroids that was not there and still ending up dead by one of the remaining twenty-one. "Let's hope so," I said instead. "But you never know."

He gave me a reassuring smile. It was nice that he tried to tell me all would be fine. I didn't think he was aware of my sympathisation for the 'rebels'. "All done. We're leaving."

Indeed the general hubbub died down. I saw officers gathering, handing over reports and whatever it is they told their superiors after a battle. I didn't know what to do, but was not sure whether to just leave or not. A look up showed that his Admiralship had already left. Barhekh came to my rescue, touching my hand softly and signalling me to follow.

"Got to go," I told Zeth. "We should meet again some time, talk and such."

He smiled back. "Sure."

I followed Barhekh to the turbolift wondering what was next, but my pad had no idea either. With C'baoth gone this could mean any number of things. I closed my eyes for a moment thinking of Wayland, and Luuke, but things at that front would work out. Mara was gone already, or so I hoped, and she would kill her Luuke have peace and marry Luke. Some day.

Now I had just to make sure things didn't run awry empire-side. 'That's a piece of cake', my mind said defiantly, but no Gobling King popped up to mock me. Bother. My train of though ended suddenly, when Barhekh led me through a door just to vanish discretely. When I went ahead I didn't get far. There was a table set for two. Only one place was already occupied.

I swallowed hard and tried to hide it. Now this was unexpected. I let my eyes roam over the table, everything to avoid his Admiralship, realising that I had never seen anything on it before. Warily I sat down.

"I can see Seros' lessons, though not wasted, are having little effect."

What a charming greeting. I looked at him, shaking my head. "He is doing his best, but the material he has to work with has the elegance of a bantha. It might take a millennia or two for his efforts to show results."

His lip curled up slightly. "I should hope not."

I shrugged. "I am doing my best, but there is so much I have to learn."

"That is correct. _Lua_," he said holding up his glass.

I was not sure if he meant the liquid, the container or if it was a toast, so I looked back and forth between him and the glass, uncertainty written all over my face.

"It means 'water'", Thrawn finally provided. "Potable water of a certain temperature served at formal occasion, to be accurate."

So this was formal? Relief and desperation flooded me in equal parts. Desperation because I would not get to eat anything much between trying to learn, and relief because my stomach was too badly knotted up for me to eat much anyway. I raised my glass. "_A'rere_." I hoped it also meant 'whatever'.

"_Nekada__k'inata'morekhei_," Thrawn said. "This is not a game."

I nodded, perfunctorily chastised. "_Heim'erea'seene_."

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	101. 101

One Hundred and One

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!! _

I felt tired. The dinner had taken forever, and coming to think of it its main effect was keeping me hungry while staring at food the names of which I had mostly forgotten again already. I rolled over and sighed. If only I remembered, then – well, he'd probably just move on to the next set of dishes, and truth be told, I was rather fond of the formal aspect of it all.

Maybe I'd get used to it. Formal dinners and all that, how hard could it be? The thought of 'Dinner for One' flashed through my mind, quickly followed by the image of Thrawn doing a well-calculated jump over the head of the tiger's pelt. With that kind of attitude, there would be all kinds of complications, I was sure.

And I did feel I had enough of those already. Seros complicated my breakfast and afterwards life in general. Arn was not around to train and there was nobody I knew around in the gym of the 501st either. Working out alone was boring, though I amused myself for a while by trying to keep my bearings while pummelling a sandbag. Knots in arms and legs ensued and it was fun. For about five minutes.

That left me with little to do but rehearse my vocabulary. I wandered through the corridors repeating the endless lists with little effect but it was better than pacing in my room. My brain just worked better when I was moving. Barhekh followed me around valiantly, we must have made a nice pair with me mumbling to myself all the time.

During lunch I wondered if this was another of my days off, because I really didn't have anything to do. It was a little scary that I found nothing to do with all my time. I decided to call on Jes and Sey, but they were busy. No wonder with more battles just around the next corner. Toris was also up to his ears in battle preparations, my mad Jedi had left and I was not masochistic enough to seek out Seros myself.

Returning to my room I wondered if I would still manage to curl up in bed and dream away the time, telling myself a story. I closed my eyes, but all my stories were scattered, bits and shards of half-forgotten dreams, shreds of faces, broken melodies. And then there were the bits I didn't dare go near because they had 'Dave' stamped all over them.

Even Zeth had just a short couple of minutes to spare over the comm, telling me how he was and where Kyp was and how he seemed to be doing okay for having been locked up and a slave for several years. If things kept going smooth, there was a real chance he didn't turn out an angry psychopath with murderous ambitions.

It was almost a relief to be bothered by Thrawn and his Cheunh again. It did keep my head occupied, and obviously that was what I needed right now. I chewed on the impossibly long words, trying to keep up something that might have been a conversation. It got more difficult after Thrawn forbid me to use '_a'rere_' again. Ever.

I was sure to get sore muscles from speaking Cheunh. It was indeed not a language meant to be spoken by non-Chiss. It was enough that it should torture them. "_Pohskapforian_," I grumbled just because I could and because I had little better to say sorting through a jumbled assembly of Chiss dignitaries, trying to put them in the right houses in the right hierarchy.

"I do not think there are any merchant traders among them," Thrawn said dryly.

"Dignitary Memory is just not my favourite game," I told him sorting another of the outfits to House Csapla.

"Speaking of which," he undid my choice shaking his head, "you did not seem over-much worried for your friends on Coruscant."

I stared at the dress uniform trying to find how it did not belong to Csapla. "I was not really worried," I said. "It's just a small siege. I don't think it will keep them long."

"Why not?" He raised a brow.

"Some friend of theirs is bound to pop up and tell them the right number of asteroids." I shrugged. "I'm not sure how long it will take, but not very long."

"Who would that be?"

"I don't know," I had to admit. "Could be Lando, could be Karrde. Could be any smuggler trying to get on their good side. I really don't remember."

"It is a very inconvenient thing for you _not_ to remember," he told me pointedly.

"Oh heavens!" I turned around to face him. "My head is so full of alien blabber that, had I not written them down, I wouldn't remember the lyrics of my favourite songs, Thrawn!" My exasperation immediately gave way to panicking, not sure if was worse to call his native language 'blabber' or him Thrawn to his face. I went red and looked at my feet.

"I see."

I didn't but I didn't argue the point. Being mad at Thrawn was not how things were supposed to be going. Not that it would help anything either. "Sorry."

He didn't reply, just gestured to the door. "You need your rest now. I will see that you are more diversely - entertained in the future."

Swallowing hard I got up. It was difficult to say if his voice was cold because he never really had any tone in it but calm and controlled. I was just about to slip away when he called after ma.

"What do you say?"

"_Heret'oahana__t'atast'anereIitoan'ok'ethe_," I spit out after wrecking my brain for a moment.

He nodded and that was my sign to leave. Hurriedly.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	102. 102

One Hundred and Two

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!! _

I sat up wide awake. This was definitely much too early. I could not have slept longer than a few hours. Looking around I realised that I would have to turn on the lights before I saw anything. That meant it was not some kind of alarm, because lights would automatically come on if it was. Very strange.

It turned out to be only three in the morning. I was about to return to my bunk and dismiss it as a freak accident, when my pad insisted that I should be up, and actually moving very soon. I stared at the annoying bit of technology. If this was what his Admiralship had meant when he said 'diversely entertained' I was not amused. In record time I got myself presentable and rushed off to the bridge. I almost forgot about Barhekh and when I did and looked back to see if he followed me (which he did) I almost ran head-first into the doors of a turbolift. Clearly early mornings were not the best of times for me.

The bridge was buzzing with action, which surprised me at this time. Not that it should have, after all, day was just a construct here with no real meaning, but a standardised time. Seros caught me just as I stepped out of the lift, pulling me along into one of the crew pits.

"This is your station," he informed me.

I looked around with disbelief. Who would be stupid enough to entrust any kind of post to me? My abilities clearly lacked everything. "And what am I to do?" I wanted to know.

"This is the incoming reports," he pointed at one monitor. "They come from all fleets engaged in the Kanchen sector. Your job is to make sure that they arrive at the correct battle stations here." Seros rattled down a list of officers in charge of the single fights throughout the sector, their liaison officers on board of the _Chimera_ and how to get the two together.

After going through the process a few times I got the general idea and began to make a list of what should go where. And with no warning at all, the reports began to file in. And a hell of a lot reports they were. It looked as if half the galaxy was currently involved in the fighting, when Seros had spoken only about one sector. I had real trouble keeping up with the sorting. I was not even tempted to peek into the reports.

It was bound to get better, I decided and was completely wrong. For the next hours I was rushing reports from A to B, the amount of which seemed to increase rather than become less. Only when a hand descended on my shoulder and politely told my that my shift was over did I realise that I had been sitting there for six hours straight. My head was swimming.

I followed a group of crewers who walked rather determinedly towards the next turbolift. They seemed to know the routine and I wanted to do things right. To my relief I spotted Zeth among them. I closed the gap on him. "What now?"

He looked down at me shortly. "We grab a bite and some sleep before we're back for the next shift."

"When will that be?" I asked fearing the worst.

"Six hours from now." He smiled a little. "New to the drill, huh?"

I nodded. "And less than enamoured."

"You'll get used to it," he assured me.

I was tempted to tell him that I didn't want to, but what would have been the use? I turned around hoping to remember where my station had been. It would be so much like me to return and have no idea whom to displace. Due to looking around clueless, I missed the turbolift and had to wait for the next. I keyed my floor, ran to the officers' mess, gobbled down a plate of unidentified stuff and hit the sack as I was. Of course, then I had to get up again then, making sure my alarm was set.

For a while I could not fall asleep and when I finally did, the alarm went off immediately. Bother. I hurried through getting up, presentable and breakfast at break-neck speed and managed to get back to the bridge just in time. The first men were already coming my direction. I tried to find my old place, but the only reason I did find it was that the crewman sitting at the console was looking around rather annoyed. I took my seat again. The flood of reports had not ceased one bit.

My list had disappeared in a most inconvenient way and I struggled through the procedure for a while until I was back into the routine. I hadn't know how much paperwork a war was. One more reason to never start one; I would never get all the forms filled out. I was very tired by the time the shift came to an end, but it did feel as if there had been a little less to do at the end.

I was just glad to be off and didn't even bother with something to eat. All I wanted to do was sleep. But just when I had laid down, the alarm went off again. This was surely hell. I dragged myself to grab something to eat, suddenly very glad for grey globs. It didn't take much to get the down he throat and they filled you up quickly. Shuffling back to the bridge I wondered how long such battles took.

Amazingly long, obviously. Not that anybody else seemed to suffer from the lack of sleep as badly as I did. They looked tired but not ready to drop dead any second. I sat down and began shuffling reports again. It took me quite a while to realise that there was less of them now. Some of the areas were completely silent already and I supposed the fighting was already over there. It was too bad I couldn't lay eyes on a map. I really wanted to know how things looked overall. Not that I had the faintest idea where the Kanchen sector was, how many planets, systems or anythings it had.

The level of noise on the bridge did not lower any though. Whatever was going on in other places of the sector, the _Chimera_ was having her own little party. It seemed to go on forever, too. After a while there were no more reports coming in and I tried to gauge the state of affairs around me. There was a tension, but it seemed to be more concentrated effort than anxiety.

I tried to listen for anything to give me a clue so hard that it seemed Thrawn was shouting in my ear, though he was just talking to Pellaeon. "Secure the fleet from full battle status, Captain. Deploy for planetary bombardment and have Captin Harbid transmit our terms of surrender to the Xa Fel government."

I stole a glance at the chrono. It was over a day after my first shift. I wondered how the men in the fighters stood it, how anybody ever stood fighting for so long and especially how you stood losing after it. I was not sure I could take it. So it was probably a good thing that I was up here with the occupation force. I played with the keys of my console, trying to pick up on the conversation again, but Pellaeon had already left for another part of the bridge being busy with whatever the aftermath of a victory needed. I caught sight of black boots moving along the walkway and found myself looking up at the Admiral.

"Follow me," he ordered not even stopping.

With a sigh I got up and found a replacement already standing aside to take my seat. I slumped my shoulders. This was not a good idea. I was overtired, hungry and in a generally unpleasant mood, mostly because of being tired. It would be a real piece of work to keep my act together. I stood before the turbolift staring at the closed doors. Finally Barhekh moved to push the call button. I simply stared at his hand as if the action was not making sense or barely registering in my head.

It was, of course. And I could see the upcoming conversation all to clear. There was not much that needed discussion right now. I longed for a countdown to tell me how many days I had left. I also wanted to be home suddenly very badly. I closed my eyes, and when the doors hissed open I just stepped forwards, hugging myself. 'I do not want this' was half a lie, because at the very end I _did_ want to do something that mattered.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	103. 103

One Hundred and Three

It was a short way and a lot sooner than expected I ended up in his Admiralship's private bridge. The table was still standing in its out-of-the way corner and had again one Grand Admiral seated at it. At least, I could detect a complete lack of food. Good.

"We need to talk about the details of my supposed death," Thrawn said and gestured me to take a seat. "When, where and how? And how do you plan to prevent it?"

Well, what else was there to talk about really? I sat down and tried to look at my feet through the tabletop. But I only saw my fingers placed on the dark surface, neatly trimmed fingernails, not trace of neurodermatitis, not looking old really despite all the wrinkles. I think wrinkles on the hands were normal; you needed a lot of skin there because you moved the fingers so much. I was distracting myself with the study of my hands tying not to be there at all. Not that it worked, a voice kept nagging at the back of my mind.

"I think C'baoth wants me to stop you," I finally said.

Thrawn raised a brow but didn't comment on my completely waiving his question.

"I think he did something to my brain, remote control triggered thought virus or something. Maybe I should better be out cold during the battle." It was a good idea. If I was not conscious there was a chance that C'baoth's triggering wouldn't work.

"You expect something to happen to him during the battle?" Thrawn asked coldly.

I nodded, still following then lines on the back of my hands with my eyes. "Him, too. And I don't want to end up a tool for him after all." I didn't want to be anybody's tool, actually, but this was not the time to tell Thrawn. It was also not really feasible, coming to think of my situation. I sighed. "It scares me."

"Do you think you will be able to attend to your duties to me if unconscious?" he asked.

For a while I just stared at my hands trying to think about it. The truth was I had no idea. I was not even sure what my duties would be. If I told him what to do now, he'd work out who'd attack him – if he hadn't done that already. I swallowed. Then I wondered if that would be so bad. The lifesaving was on a different deal than the galaxy saving, was it not? A life for a life and a world for a world, something like that. If only I had a written copy somewhere so I could look things up. I didn't feel sure at all what it was I had promised, had been promised. I was, all in all, too easy to confuse.

"I don't know," I finally said.

"In which case, I am afraid you will have to stay conscious, Mellanna."

I didn't cringe when he said my name. I wanted to, because it sounded all kinds of wrong. Plus I wanted to curl up and hide, preferably in the arms of Dave. My hands were extremely interesting; I couldn't imagine ever looking at something else again. "I am scared," I repeated. "If he programmed me to kill you, everything will have been in vain."

"You are not even armed, Mellanna," he chided.

I looked up for a moment, biting my lower lip and shaking my head slightly. "It won't go away. You don't know how it is to live with an order like that. It will never subside." Looking down again I shook my head again. My fingers arched slightly as if the nails wanted to dig into the plastisteel surface.

"Spaarti clones can be grown within a fortnight," Thrawn explained. "It will be an easy command to get rid off."

White rims formed under my fingernails. The thought to grow a person to shoot him because – well, just because - I reminded myself to breathe again. "But I am scared of everything else, too," I finally admitted. "With luck, all it takes to safe you is a bullet-proof vest that also works against knives. Then you will live. I will live. And then? What if nothing works out, or everything does and I just can't-?" I stopped to hold my breath watching something shattering into droplets over my fingers. "I have no control whatsoever."

"You will not get any this way for sure."

I closed my eyes. "Wished, I didn't care."

"But you do, so get back on topic. _Luah'eriki'taotoatoa, beim'oriri'katiaro'katere*_," he told me.

It might be true, but to turn from water to ice, you had to change the aggregate state. I didn't know if humans could do it. "During the battle for Bilbringi," I said softly, "Rhukh, with a knife."

"And you intend to prevent it by a bulletproof vest." His tone was unreadable. "What about C'baoth?"

I kept my stare fixed on my hands. "He might just get himself killed on Wayland. And I don't put it beyond hi-"

"By who?" He interrupted.

I bit my lip, closed my eyes and tried hard not to think at all. Something shattered on my fingers again, I opened my eyes just in time to see silver fragments on the tabletop. "Luke, Mara, Karrde. I think they'll destroy the whole cloning facility."

_Traitor! Traitor! Traitor! Traitor! Traitor! Traitor! Traitor! Traitor! Traitor! Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!_

My head spun around the one word, but I kept my gaze on my hands. I had taken sides. Finally. And there was nothing really I could do, even if Thrawn decided to send some more legions to Wayland now to keep his cloning facility and get rid of Luke in the same sweep. When I had hoped to have Luke for removing the Palpatine clones. Well, those would most certainly wipe us out then. Poetic justice.

After a while I became aware of the silence surrounding me. A look up showed that Thrawn had left already. I looked around, then back to my hands. I didn't know what to do next, actually I didn't even want to do anything next. There was nothing that could happen next which would be any kind of right. Not after what I had said. At least I knew who to blame. So I just kept sitting there.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

* * *

*Water conquers all but only ice keeps/holds it.


	104. 104

One Hundred and Four

I just kept sitting there, staring at my hands for the longest time. Then Barhekh came and softly, but persistently ushered me out. To my surprise not much time had passed. I saw Pellaeon come my direction and part of me remembered that as superior officer I owed him a salute. He did not wince as I did so and I hoped that was a good sign. Maybe it just meant he was willing to accept it as it would not be going on for much longer.

Barhekh lead me to the gym, where Arn was waiting. He looked drawn and tired, and I huddled up in a corner of my mind and watched what happened. He talked and she talked back and he didn't seem happy, but that was to be expected. She was not happy either and there was nothing he could say to change it.

I went through the motions distanced, watching from the outside. She was getting good at fighting; she didn't look like a bouncing gnome any more. She did not talk much and he stopped trying to make her, his face more drawn than before. And then Barhekh pulled me away again and sat me down at a table with something to eat. I stared at my plate until it went away and I could go to my quarter.

I sat down on my bunk and looked at my hands again. "How do you chose between what is right and loyalty?" My eyes flitted through the room, finding Barhekh watching me from a safe distance. He eyed me calmly. It was a question he could answer, but it didn't look as if he was inclined to.

"I just wished I had chosen right over loyalty," I sighed.

"I will tell you a story," Barhekh said, his eyes hard, as he walked over and came to a stop before me. "From the times that Honoghr was young and the sky was dark with night. The Clan lived in the plains and life was hard. One day the sky split open and Moon arrived in a chariot of fire. The ground trembled as he set down and the huts of the Clan crumbled. His chariot ignited the very ground. Many died and screams of pain and suffering filled the air like ashes.

"But Moon tied himself to the ground with the chain of stars that lit the sky and he looked at the Clan. 'Follow me', he said, 'and I will undo the evils.' And he walked among them and the ground shook under his feet.

The Clan did not know what to do, so they followed and Moon showed them how to harness the fire and build houses. But the sky wept for Moon had wounded it upon his arrival, and it cast down scalding rain and black death. The Clan sat in their houses and did not dare go out.

So Moon called through the village. 'If you will serve me, I will make the evils go away.'

The Clan argued about this for many days. But the sky did not relent and the waters turned sour, the animals left and hunger came upon the Clan. Said Arhakhan, strong warrior and secondson of the chieftain, 'I will go and serve him, for I will not see my wife die who is with child.' And he went to Moon and offered his service.

But Moon was not content. He gave land to Arhakhan and a clear well and he lived there with his wife who gave birth to his firstdaughter. And they called her Khanathitera, that means 'dutiful fate'. And he served Moon and saw his people suffer because they could not agree on a course.

Many died but in the end the Clan decided to survive rather than perish and they came to serve Moon. And he made the sky come down for a week as the Clan huddled in their houses and afterwards the rain was soft again and the ground green. And he taught them to keep their own animals, and coax fruit from the ground and all its plants.

And in return he took the daughters he fancied and fought with the strong sons, not caring if they died. But the Clan could not rise against him because he had chained himself to the ground as he arrived and they had pledged their loyalty to him. And he taught them to write so they would remember how it had been before he came and be glad that they had better lives now.

Arhakhan, who had come first, helped Moon reshape the ground his chariot had destroyed and they calmed the mountains that spit fire at the Clan and Arhakhan gleaned the secrets from Moon he would not have the Clan know. And in secret he took the knowledge Moon had given and began to shape a knife.

For many turnings of the year he worked on it hidden from Moons sight. He formed it from the stone the mountains spit up and sharpened it on the edge of morning ice. He sharpened it on the cold glitter of the stars that bound Moon to the ground and tempered it on the future of the Clan. For he knew how to be free of Moon again.

But Moon saw his plan and he was angry. And he killed three warriors in a fight and devoured half the herds of the clan and burned down their orchards in his anger. Then he called for his first servant.

And Arhakhan saw that his plan had been discovered. 'Firstdaughter,' he said. 'Moon is calling for me and my life is forfeit. His reign is not helping the Clan, but right now there is still more good than evil coming from him. It will not always be so. Take this, and when the day arrives, cut him loose. The plagues will return, one after another as you remember but reverse. And the people will suffer and there will be great pain. But Moon will be gone and the Clan will be his own master again and the Noghri people will be free.' And he gave the knife to his daughter Khanathitera.

Arhakhan went to Moon and he smote him down demanding to know where he had put the knife. But Arhakhan would not tell and he died with his teeth clamped."

Barhekh fell silent. For a long moment we just sat there. I wondered if the trail of stars still led up to the moon over Honoghr. Suddenly he stirred and got up. Silently he produced a slender object from - somewhere. Taking my hand he laid it on my palm and vanished.

For a long moment I just stared at the knife in my and. Then I attached it to the side of my leg and laid down on the bunk. I could not sleep. I lay, staring at the ceiling. I could not sleep. For several shifts nothing had been more on my mind than then final opportunity to sleep again and now I lay there with my eyes wide open and my mind empty like the primal sky over Honoghr.

I got up. I called Dave. I did not wince as I saw his face, all hard lines and duty. I bit my lip shortly when his eyes searched my face and did not respond to what they found.

"I need to be held and reassured," I told him.

"I cannot do that," he replied.

"What do I do?" I wanted to know.

"Endure." He broke the connection.

I stared at the blank screen. Endure. It would not be enough. It would not suffice. Endure would not save Thrawn. Endure would not save Luke. Endure would not save anybody; not even me. I really did have to get my act back together.

With a sigh I laid my head on my folded arms and closed my eyes. Where was motivation when you needed it?

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	105. 105

One Hundred and Five

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it! _

I woke with all my muscles cramped from falling asleep with my head on my arms. I tried to shake the remnants of sleep. A shame there was no such ting like a hot sonic. I pried myself off the desk and began another day. I should be grateful, observant, memorising every little bit. There were not many days left to the end of the world.

Still the days went by in a flurry of slow motion. Everything blurred into a stream of learning, repeating, exercising and practice. Arn was close-mouthed, Seros getting increasingly annoyed with my lack of progress and when Thrawn was not chivvying me through highly complicated routines and interactions, I had long, long, very long lists of markers to learn. Holding your hands like this to express disdain, move the thumb like that to make it consent, never tilt your head unless you mean to offend. Of course, all that worked only under certain circumstances, in cooperation with even more markers, gestures and intonation.

The Chiss were obviously very fond of procedure and had a complicated web of sequences that allowed them to say a lot while actually meaning something else entirely. Strangely enough, I felt most at home with Thrawn and his drills. Every interaction was so strictly regulated, following correct paths and exchanging correct words, that all that mattered was getting things _right_. From the moment I figured out from his greeting in what kind of relationship that put us, to the moment I took my leave, it was choreographed tightly. Wrong steps were corrected, the way I held a single finger conveying too much meaning to be misunderstood. It was _complicated_ and I was just about learning the first steps.

"_Toahanah'ein'ehere'olu'nawa,_" the formal greeting rolled easily from my lips by now as I lowered my hands until they were parallel to the floor.

"_Toahanah'eren'ekeset'oluma'nawa_," Thrawn replied, the inclination of his head implying allegiance or a bond between the families.

Accordingly, when the back of his hands came to rest on my palms, I curled my thumb over his index finger. "_Kinanata'yata'hoana." _I hoped that addressing him as friend would be correct and it should not have been' _hoanata_' for ally instead.

Thrawn made a fist around my thumbs, my hands curling along accordingly and I relaxed. No, friend had been the right interpretation. The first obstacle had been cleared, so on to getting seated, accepting the right choice of refreshments, pleasantries and conversation topics. Talking in Cheunh was as much body language as it was vocabulary. And intonation. And eye contact. And gestures. And how could it have happened that I had just tilted my head again, did I really want to question the alliance?

There was not even the chance to sigh in exasperation, unless I wanted to start a highly complicated procedure which ended with a duel. I did not want to duel with his Admiralship. I did not even know how Chiss did duel under the formal law of the _lor'kina_. It was one thing among many I had on my list of topics I thought I'd rather know before I was faced with them on Csilla.

But right now, all that mattered was getting through the sequences of the meeting without bungling up the _lor'kina _too badly. I was pretty certain that Thrawn was letting things slip, mostly because my grasp of Cheunh was - lacking.

In the end I was actually surprised to find myself in the replication of the bridge when I entered. I had gotten so used to displays of Chiss art and other important sights that I had forgotten this was a private command room. Looking around uneasily I approached Thrawn who was seated in the ring of double displays, Pellaeon at his side. So this would be official Empire business. It was awkward to realise that I would have felt more at ease with the Chiss formalities.

"At ease, Private," Thrawn said and I didn't even try to salute. "We have just had an - interesting conversation with C'baoth."

I nodded, making a note of how he unceremoniously dropped the mad Jedi's title. "I assume he is not too happy with the ysalamiri in Mount Tantiss?"

Pellaeon stiffened, obviously still not used to me knowing things just because. "Among other things," Thrawn said. "More worrying is the fact that he took control over General Covell, so much that severing the connection killed the General."

"He can do that," I agreed.

"You also implied that he might have programmed you to attack me should he die," Thrawn went on, completely ignoring Pellaeon's indignation about the whole subject. Poor Pelly, he was not at ease with Force-users. I could not blame him.

"I did and I still stand by the suspicion," I confirmed.

Pellaeon looked as if he wanted nothing more than to call on security and lock me away right there and then. "Sir, -" he began, but Thrawn cut him off with a small gesture.

"The battle of Bilbringi will commence tomorrow," he told me calmly. "Captain Pellaeon wishes you to be removed from the bridge. Is there anything you can say to alleviate his fears?"

I looked at Pellaeon. He did not want me off the bridge, he wanted me off the ship; jettisoned if possible. Fierce loyalty burned in his eyes and he was determined to erase anything that might threaten the rise of his shiny new Empire. "I cannot," I said softly. Spreading my hands before I looked at my fingers.

"Do understand, that certain security measures will have to be taken," Thrawn said, glancing pointedly at my boot in which I concealed the knife Barhekh had given to me.

"You cannot possibly mean to trust her," Pellaeon.

"Of course not," Thrawn replied calmly. "But I do not thinks she is anything a guard cannot handle."

I kept looking at my hands, knowing he was right. If only I could have shrugged off the hurt pride as easily as accepting the truth of it. _I want to do something that matters._ I never had said I wanted to do it now. It was easier if the Big Life-Changing Event was somewhere on the horizon, close enough to anticipate, far enough not to worry.

"I expect you on the bridge tomorrow," Thrawn told me. "Dismissed."

I nodded and hurried away, wanting nothing more than to curl up in my bunk and hope tomorrow didn't come.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	106. 106

One Hundred and Six

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it! _

There I was again, staring at the darkness in front of my eyes. This was it. Today was the day. This was the end of all I knew. And I was scared. But did I have the right to be frightened? I have been walking into this mess open-eyed, willingly even. To cop out now as not even an option. I put my hands before my face. I was not a strong woman, but in case of need I bucked up. Or so I'd tell myself. And now was such a time. With a groan I got up to watch the end of the universe.

The end of the universe started with grey globs for breakfast and a lecture from Seros on grouching early in the morning. That did nothing to lift my mood. Neither did arriving on the bridge, though there was still nothing to be seen but blue hyperspace. It did not unfold its calming effect at all. Quite to the contrary, I felt uneasy about being the only unarmed person around. Barhekh ushered me to Thrawn and Pellaeon before retreating into invisibility. Rhukh on the other hand stood visibly, if you cared to look, behind Thrawn's chair. I tried to ignore him and concentrate on what I knew about the battle instead.

The fleet exited hyperspace and Bilbringi was nothing like I had expected. For one thing there was no planet around. All I could see were asteroids and the shipyards that seemed to be swimming in them. Shipyards...

"Sir?" I looked at his Admiralship who encouraged me to go on with a nod. "There will be smugglers in the shipyard. They will come to aide the Republic in a fight."

"Indeed." I was not sure if his tone indicated that he knew already but appreciated me spilling that or if it was news to him. Who'd ever be able to tell? I spread my hands before my belly, the palms facing down and the tips interlocking. I glanced shorty from them to Thrawn who's answer was but a raised brow. He did not intend to tell me how things worked out then. Fine.

"We will deal with them later." He lifted his left gesturing at Pellaeon who nodded. Which meant he did not get the sign language and that he was the reason Thrawn was not explaining things to me. I clasped my hands, looking into the opposite direction of Pellaeon. I could wait. I wished it would be that easy on Csilla, too. There everybody knew about those sideways signals and glances.

"That appears to be all of them, Captain," Thrawn said into my musings. I looked out at the ships spreading through space. So many. I hated the battle already. I listened while Thrawn and Pellaeon decided who would have the honour of reporting the defeat back to Coruscant. I did not like the reasons they had to chose Ackbar, but at least that meant the general would survive. I sighed. Space lit up with blaster fire and I was not allowed to close my eyes.

"Enforce the attack of the Golan Stations to the back," Thrawn ordered.

"That will leave our side vulnerable to an attack," Pellaeon objected. "If we break formation now-"

Thrawn silenced him with one glance. The ships broke out of the entrapment formation and regrouped to take on the smugglers inside the shipyards. As Pellaeon had predicted, the rebel, erm Republic feet pounced on the new weakness immediately. Thrawn did not seem to worry at all. I was biting my lip. But at least the smugglers' ships were now pinned and not able to disrupt the fighting. That was good, but even I did worry abut the gaping hole in the Imperial formation and that was certainly more than bad.

"Sir," Pellaeon suddenly sounded surprised. "We have a priority message coming in from Wayland."

"Read it," Thrawn ordered and I began to inch towards him. At the same time a second wave of ships jumped out of hyperspace. They seemed familiar, but odd. The Republic did not react to them at first, but when they manoeuvred in to close the gap in Thrawn's fleet, they did open fire. But by now, they were vastly outnumbered. "Commander Parck," Thrawn said softly, a tight smile on his face. "His timing is impeccable."

Pellaeon nodded, not even bothering to ask questions. "Decrypt is coming now, sir." He read the message as is crept over his screen slowly. "The mountain is under attack, sir. Two different forces of natives plus some rebel saboteurs -" he broke off and I tried to get between Rhukh and Thrawn which was difficult since I was exactly on the opposite side of them and had to find a quick way around the chair.

"And a group of Noghri-" Pellaeon was interrupted by Rhukh's hand across his throat. I hadn't gotten anywhere and just lunged. Rhukh did something similar, a knife of the same kind Barhekh had given me gleamed in his hand. I wondered if I had acted fast enough and if throwing yourself at Grand Admirals was acceptable under these conditions.

It was not. The world blinked out in a mottled pattern of blue.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	107. 107

One Hundred and Seven

I came to myself in the med bay. My head was clear and I felt - awake. When I sat up I found myself alone in the room, the lights low, but bright enough so I could see the outlines of everything. What had happened? I rubbed my head, but the last thing I remembered was a mad lunge throwing myself over Thrawn.

Hm. My inner fangirl did not take the opportunity to cheer about this. I wondered is she was dead. Nobody stopped me when I got down from the stretcher and made my way to the doors. Fortunately, I checked on my clothing before I left and realised I was wearing some kind of nightgown. Searching around the bunk I did not find my uniform or anything else that resembled clothing you could wear outside of med bay. Sitting down on the bed I considered if that would stop me from leaving or not.

I watched my dangling feet, the silence was unnerving. I wanted to know what happened. Was the Alliance beaten? Wiped out? Had the Empire lost the battle still? What about Luke and Mara, what had happened to Rhukh and Barhekh? But at the same time I was much too scared to ask. I hugged myself because I had no right to be so reluctant. I had taken sides, now all I had to do was live with it.

Killing people is easy, I had told Kyp. The difficult part was living with what you had done. And I could turn this any way I wanted, from now on there would be blood on my hands. My fault, my responsibility. The problem with hiding from yourself it, that you know too well, where to find you. Cowardly, I decided that Finding Out could wait until somebody thought I was ready for it. It was one of the very few decisions I did not have to make. Still it was hard to just leave it be. For a split second I wanted to call Dave. Instead I curled up under the thin blanket again. If only I could go home.

The thought felt curiously foreign. I had not had it for quite some time now. Behind closed eyes I tried to think of home and found it distressingly foggy. The things I remembered best were mostly such as had happened inside my head only. There was a soft realisation that I should feel guilty about it. But I was here, _still_ here and how was that for going back at the end of - whatever? I was stuck. No way back, and what good did it do to dwell on the past in that case? All my justifications fell into place neatly as I reached out for sleep.

.

.

_It is not Orthanc, but the ground is far away. Wind pulls at my hair, I don't have a cloak to flap. He has his arm around my waist from behind, resting his face on my shoulder. "You can fly, you know," Murdoc says. "You only have to believe."_

_I turn to look at him and with a small chuckle he pushes me down. _Believe_, he mouths._

_But I cannot fly, and the ground rushes up at me. I have no wings. Gabriel unfolds his with a sneer, horribly beautiful as he dangles mine just out of reach. Angel-wannabe. There is nothing I can do, hovering in the grey wafting mists. Shapes pass by that don't reach me, shadows behind veiled eyes._

_His eyes pierce me as I look back to the tower. It branches out black before the grey sky, covering it slowly. "There is nothing you can do," he says, taking my hand into his. But I can see the one star stubbornly refusing to be caught in the web._

_"I can watch," I say. "Acknowledge and testify. Nothing is ever forgotten."_

_His laughter falls around ma like a shattered mirror. He touches the inside of my head, smiling. "It may be bigger on the inside, but not enough to keep galaxies in." He kisses my forehead and lets go._

_Stars spiral past me, trillions of lights aflame in the darkness of space, all but one galaxy, its vastness trying to crowd into my head. I cannot scream. It is the only way, there is nowhere else to go. Stars burn behind my eyes. There is nowhere to go._

_.  
_

"Ms. Morrison." Somebody shook my shoulder. "Ms. Morrison, it is time for you to get up."

It still felt as if something was burning in my head. I rubbed my temples but it didn't help. The room was brightly lit and somebody had conveniently stacked clothes within my sight. Shutoff was over. I looked up and found Arn looking back at me with concern.

"Are you alright?"

"As yet," I replied getting up. Depending on the news I would be getting that might change quickly. Not that it was Arn's fault. I got ready to face his Admiralship and inconvenient truths and was rather surprised to find myself facing breakfast instead. Free choice, no Seros and compulsion to have grey globs. Nobody gave us a second glance though I did not have Barhekh with me. I wondered where he had gone to and then very quickly didn't and looked at Arn instead.

It was obvious, really, once you looked for it. There had been a promotion going on while - well, while I was not looking. "So everything went more or less well?" I asked, indication his new rank insignia.

"It did," He replied. "The Grand Admiral is still alive and the battle went very well."

I waited fro him to elaborate, but he did not. Carefully, I took a sip of my tea, so I didn't explode in his face. "Good to know. Can I get to know how well things went 'very well' at Bilbringi?"

He shook his head slightly. "It is not up to me to disclose that to you. I am sorry."

He did not sound sorry. He did not look sorry either. I grumbled into my tea. "Then who is? And what is your new job?" I added as an afterthought. I didn't think I'd get my personal lieutenant to watch me.

"The Grand Admiral, of course." There was a smug grin on his face, as if he knew how torn I was about finding out what happened and did not mind playing with that for a while. "And his personal adjutant, to be precise."

My jaw dropped. So that was where Arn had been hiding lately? Currying favours with Thrawn and forwarding his career? Not that it was his fault solely, I had to assume that Thrawn had something to do with it, too.

"Really, Mellanna," he chided, "brilliance alone is not enough to succeed in the Empire. You have to get it _noticed_. And you did. Thank you."

With all my willpower I kept my head from meeting the tabletop repeatedly.

"Or course this new position also has the advantage that I will be part of the Grand Admiral's plans for you in the future." He smiled and looked genuinely happy. "It is not as if you were rid off me all with a sudden."

"That's nice." I had no idea how that sounded, but I actually meant it. "I mean that, really," I tried to make sure Arn understood that, too.

"I know," he grinned. "So if you could eat up now, we can just go ahead to sparring." His innocent look was obviously insincere. He knew he was pushing my buttons.

"So the world has changed, but I am still caught up in my old routines as if nothing happened?" I asked exasperated. What kind of world _was_ I living in? "Is there anything else you can actually tell me without breaking any rules?" I finished my breakfast and got up. The idea to hit Arn with sticks was very appealing right now.

"Well, I am afraid your former bodyguard has been shot on sight and jettisoned," he replied lightly. "Grand Admiral Thrawn does have a plan of replacing him, but that will surely not be me, so I know nothing about it."

The idea to hit Thrawn with sticks rose in my mind and looked very appealing too. But that would have to wait. With some luck, I would get a few well-placed blows at Arn, though he'd more likely than not deflect them.

"I want my knife back," I said suddenly and without looking at him went for my room. Barhekh was dead. Dead. Was it my fault? Probably. Had he known? Did I want to know if he had? Possibly. But more than anything I now wanted to carry that knife because even if I was not quite sure _what_ it meant, it meant _something_. That was all that mattered right now. And I would get Arn to teach me how to use it. It was the least I could do.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	108. 108

One Hundred and Eight

When the door hissed shut behind me, I took a moment to simply lean against it. I felt like catching my breath even though I had not even started working out. I grabbed the knife in its holster and tied it back to my calf, hiding it inside the boot again. Arn would have to teach me how to get at it fast, too.

Just as I wanted to leave again, my terminal came to life. Curious, I tried to open the message that flashed urgently at me, but it did not work. I tried several times before admitting defeat by technology once again. But I was intrigued, I wanted to know what the message said and why I could not open it and who'd write me anyway?

I plugged my pad into the desk and the message transferred to it immediately and without being told to. This was scary. I tried to make a list of people who would send me scary messages in my head, but that included everybody I could think of. Talk about making friends. My terminal went silent again when the message was transferred to my pad and then all traces of it were gone. With a shrug I detached my pad again. It turned itself on and the message opened, showing a very long face. Okay, a skull, but I knew it. The same was true for the voice beginning to talk.

"A neat stalemate you have gotten yourself. We will watch with interest, seeing how this three-sided arrangement will work out. Our sensitive friend has been watching the new force. Not only does he consider it strong enough to win against the old enemy, but he even appreciates what he calls 'the new approach'. I think we will keep our eyes on this resource. It would be nice to know what out bright eyes friend intends to do about it all.

"It looks as if he decided to clone his Empire instead of personnel. Since some of us have delicate feelings in that direction we appreciate. Rumour has it that the old factory has been completely destroyed. We don't believe it, knowing how your friend keeps back-ups for everything. But so do we.

"Reply once to this when you have something interesting to say."

My pad went dark again. So. Um. Whatever else, Thrawn had not wiped out the Alliance, or started to, at Bilbringi. That was good, I hoped. If I remembered correctly, Parck had arrived with some task force or other. That meant Thrawn had decided to let the Alliance at least glimpse there was more to his Empire than what they knew of. With some luck, they were still considering what to do with the new situation.

I would have to think about this some before I knew what to make of it. It was nice to know that Jusik approved of Luke. A new Jedi order could be a nice thing, provided somebody told Luke how the Old Order had _not_ worked out nicely. I decided to get a message to Luke about Streen soon as I could.

Arn was only slightly annoyed with me. That was alright because working out had was exhausting and kept me from thinking too much. Planning was all very nice inside my head, but outside of it things tended to go wrong. If I got delusions of grandeur, considering to run things the way I wanted, possibly behind Thrawn's back, that would backfire. But I did have that one free guess with Jaing. I had to make it count.

It was easier than I had thought to get Arn to teach me how to use a knife. I had one and I would use it, so he argued, I better know how; or how not to, to be more truthful. The verdict of my old trainer still held: if fighting with knifes, blood will spill. The trick was to know where being cut did not impede the fighting too much. The added value was that I learnt where my muscles and sinews were hidden and how they were important to moving around. At the end of the lesson I was hoping fervently that if I ever had to use a knife on somebody he'd have the sense to hold still. Or at least not fight back with a knife.

After getting presentable again I spent some time glaring at my schedule because of the shooting lessons later on and more behaviour lectures with Seros. It was a good thing I was not allowed to take a blaster with me. But first there was a small conversation with Thrawn ahead. I sighed. It was most likely about the incident at Bilbringi, though the fact hat he was still there to talk about it should have proved that the plan had worked out.

Straightening my tunic, I went into the small antechamber, finding it surprisingly empty without Rukh's presence. For a moment I wondered what had happened to him, but the image of a jettisoned Barhekh stopped that train of though in an ugly crash. The room behind was again filled with paintings and artwork instead of strategic displays. Since I did not know what to do, I almost automatically retreat to the firm ground of the _lor'kina._

Turning my palms towards his Admiralship I approached with my head slightly lowered, the eyes intent on him, though. There was no visible answer, but that might just have been me not knowing what to look for. He did not look dead, not even harmed. I decided to take that as a good sign. Since he stayed seated, I adjusted the angle of my head to get a straight line of sight when I arrived. Straightforwardness - only a complicated society like the Chiss would invent a special gesture for that.

Then I waited for him to open the conversation. Only in very special cases the lower ranking opened the talk. I would wait.

"You might be interested in the fact that Councillor Borsk Fey'lya met his untimely end due to an unfortunate accident involving defective speeder cars, safety measurements and a very long, uncushioned drop into the lower levels of Corsucant," Thrawn said without preliminaries. I did not know how to take it. Though the news was welcome, if not the kind of news I had expected.

"I am distraught to hear that, Sir," I replied carefully. "Do you want me to send condolences to his family?" It would have helped if I could have remembered the correct body language for biting sarcasm, but I considered his Admiralship to be clever enough to work this one out on his own.

He turned his face slightly as if to check on something on his displays. "I don't think that will be necessary, Mellanna. There is the more important matter of the bodyguard you seem to have lost."

Playing the game of communication with mixed sets of rules was fun. Somewhat. If you kept in mind I didn't know either set of rules very well. I thought the turn of the head was acknowledgement of the secondary message sent. His answer was understatement, possibly a reproach for improper use of linguistic devices.

"I heard he was jettisoned, though I think he was shot before that." I looked at my hands as I folded them before my body. The had been busy, none of it was my fault, I had nothing to do with it. "I have to rely on hearsay there."

"I see," he said, leaning back and steepling his fingers.

My mind raced through a million of possibilities: fingers spread, at least one plan for each finger; putting hands between you and the other in a pointing way, reproach for failures that should have been seen, leaning back meant comfort or supremacy or both? Or had that been tilting the head slightly back? I decided that it meant overall he was happy with the way things proceeded. I unfolded my hands again, symbolically getting ready for future action.

"I am sure you are aware that there is already another candidate on trail." The steepled hands folded neatly. "You will be informed of the outcome as soon as the - trail has come to a satisfying end."

I shuddered, trying to make sense out of his body language and failing. How could he claim to have nothing to do with the trail, and why a trail at all? This was all too complicated for my tastes. Though there was a tiny thrill of having gotten something right poking the back of my mind. Yes, learning things did make me happy. Damn it. "If there is anything I can do to help," I offered, wearily.

Thrawn tilted his head slightly. "Two things, actually. The first being a more observant attention to your language, Ms. Morrison. I think you should pay more regard to the parts of your body that are not head or hands." He got up and circled me slowly. It felt decidedly predatory. Suddenly, he straightened my shoulders with a deft movement, holding them in place for a second. "Your posture is unacceptable."

I jerked my chin up frantically, before he could decide to lend a hand with that, too. This would not be a happy lesson.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	109. Alternate Ending

**NOTE:** This is **_NOT _**the end! Promise. It is just an alternate end I wrote for somebody who asked for it - oh ages back. I'll be back with a normal update hopefully next week. (Yes, I realise I have been slacking on this. RL seems to be breathing down my neck and I make less time for this, maybe because I think nobody would  
notice if I just dropped it ^.^' ).

For all those looking for a neat way out of this mess: here you are. Thank's for following as long as you did. :D

* * *

**Alternate Ending  
**

Right, so here I was, back at square one. I looked at my shackled hands. Well, almost square one, at least I hadn't been cuffed when I had arrived. Almost not dangerous, and how true that had been. But everybody knows, almost doesn't count.

Oh, I saved Thrawn alright. Rhukh tried to stick his knife through an impenetrable security vest. Okay, almost impenetrable. But it was only a flesh wound and not deep at all. Happy end, and off to Csilla with me. I even had the thick coat packed already, and warm gloves, a set of scarves, and loads of very long and thick underwear.

Ha!

No, this would not end good. And what would I do there now anyway? He was dead and gone. Even if they wanted him back in the end, there was no chance in hell - well maybe, but I would never get to Nirauan. And how would I handle having a cloned Thrawn? Oh dear, I was not prepared for any of that. Maybe this was the easy way out; the coward's way.

I wished that somehow I could see Dave once more. Not that he'd want to see me. After all - yeah, after all. And no proof remained. The memory remains. I don't want it, but I had no say in this. At least, the nightmares would stop soon. Soon, everything will stop. I put my head in my bound hands, but it was not helping, I was shaking all over. And I couldn't even close my eyes.

From that darkness - flashlights - from the silence - screams. And my hands shaking, shaking like I was shaking now, all red. It's no good. I can't close my eyes.

I wished they'd hurry up. Make it end. Don't make me sleep another night. Save me!

Arn was here, distress written all over his face in letters to bold for his slim figure. Among the few who knew me, he knows and understands. The panic on my face - he gets it. C'baoth is dead, but what did that matter? It hadn't mattered at all for Mara. I didn't matter for me. He looked at me almost blankly and I smiled feebly, saying 'I told you so' and trying not to cry. He put the hand up against the transparisteel, shaking his head. Reporting what was going on, but there is no proof.

The cameras got it all, but what was there to get? The medics had patched him up fine, no need to keep the Grand Admiral longer. He was not even lying down. My smile, hesitant, uncertain, because now was the first day of the rest of this mess. And I did not like my future that well.

No expression on his face, a curt nod acknowledging the accuracy of my prediction. Let the plan move to the next stage. And then I move in, close to him as if snuggling up and the knife I had been given for a story. Alien hand syndrome, but I was remote controlled by a Jedi, a dark, crazy Jedi and one that was dead. I wondered what he would have done, if I had not had the knife. I don't want to know, it would have been messy.

"There is hope," Arn said. "Other incidents like this happened, not so - grave, but still." He likes me, he really does.

I shake my head sadly. I don't want hope. I want - flashing lights - this to stop. Screams. And medics swarming all over the place. I am not strong enough to live with this. Arn doesn't understand, he's strong; they're all so strong here. A small consolation when the leader they had is gone now. How can they stand up to the Republic? And how can this change anything? It can'. I can't. I couldn't.

I failed.

Arn is back, not alone. Wide-eyed he stares ahead, almost expressionless, an epitome of unbelieving amazement. So this is it. The shaking will stop. I try to smile. "It's okay," I mouth at him, "everything will be fine."

I don't even know how Imperial executions work. I will find out. It doesn't matter. The evidence is back-breaking. And the intervention of a dark Jedi in my head soes not show up in the vid. There is only me, the knife and Thrawn.

Wish, I could close my eyes and take a deep, relaxing breath. I can't close my eyes, the memories - oh, the memories. Soon I will not remember any more. I don't know if they'll let Arn keep this, we'll see. Or not, probably not. Surely not. I can only hope. If only I had for ever; if only I had a last word… But the memory remains.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	110. 109

One Hundred and Nine

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it! __Move it! __Move it! _

_.  
_

I sat up startled with a trace of dreams lingering in my head, full of meandering corridors and probably David Hasselhoff. Shaking the images I away, I had a sonic, wondering how to get the information Jaing wanted. Personally, I didn't believe that all of Thrawn's cloning facility had been destroyed. So where was the rest and what did he intend to do with it? And what was his plan with the Alliance? How strong was the force Parck had brought with him, and how strong was the Empire of the Hand anyway? How good was communication and traffic between it and Csilla working?

I had a headache before I had breakfast. Great. I hated my life. When I stepped out of my room, I found Dave waiting for me. That would have been nice, if not for his distanced and professional look on his face. And the happy sneer on Lyk's face who was standing right next to Dave.

"Ms. Morrison." The clipped, precise tone of military speech. Of course I melted immediately. "We are to escort you to DBAA 214."

Okay? I nodded and followed him, feeling Lyk's canine grin in my neck. If this was Thrawn's idea of bodyguards, I would have to have a very structured conversation with him containing very displeased body language. The connection of knuckles with facial tissue was not completely out of the question. That image was especially pleasing while being cooped up with the two men in a turbo lift that definitely did not have enough space for my imagination, wishes and all three of us. Lyk sneered on and I really, really hated my life.

Maybe somebody could just shoot a stun bolt into me again. There were no scruples against that on the bridge after all. I still wondered why that should have been necessary. It was not as if I had been about to kill Thrawn. I guessed. We stepped out of the turbolift in what looked to be the detention block. It was a good time to start worrying. Not that I could _remember_ doing anything, but that didn't have to mean anything, did it? Of course, there was the fact that I had woken up in med bay and not here immediately.

We got a clearance which made me believe we were to visit somebody. It was news to me that I should know anybody in detention. I could still count down everybody I knew on this ship on my hands. I was stopped from entering with Dave, though and could just hear some faint clicks that did sound like restraining thingies. Oh.

Oh.

Now this might not be going well at all. Who would have thought that his Admiralship would be so - literal with the life for a life. I had to close my eyes briefly trying not to think of Barhekh. It was difficult. Then Lyk gave me a push forward.

"Press this, when you are finished," Dave put a small device in my hand. So those cells were sound-proof? Good to know. If a bit late.

I nodded and tried to ignore how close he was as he brushed by. I inspected the thing in my had which seemed to be nothing more than a buzzer. The I looked up. And crouched down, hugging my knees. I did not know what to do. It was amazing how often you could be completely out of your depth in a galaxy as big a this. "Um, hi."

Black eyes focussed on me, devoid of any emotion. I couldn't blame him. His wrists and ankles were cuffed tightly. "I'm afraid this is my fault," I admitted.

He seemed to try and pierce me with his gaze. "Why?"

Why what? Why was I responsible, or why did I do it? I decided to answer only the first, because I had no good reasons for the second. 'Because I can' was not an acceptable reason here. "I thought he'd let all of you live." Now that had been a bad miscalculation. "And I thought, you'd get to leave."

"Whyever would he do that?" His growl was almost inaudible.

I felt the urge to gesticulate helplessly. Why had I? And why should he not? I really did not see the problem here. "Why should he not?" I asked back. "He agreed to this, maybe I can convince him -"

"You do not understand," Rukh interrupted me. "Not the Noghri people, not even," his eyes glanced to the knife in my boot, "not even after Barhekh clan Tlakh'sar told you."

I looked at my boot embarrassed. He was right and I would be the first to agree that I didn't understand why Barhekh had done that. Or what the deeper message behind his story was. And now the metaphorical moon was already detached from the planet with them following the Alliance. I shook my head. "I am sorry."

"Will that help?" he growled.

"No, it won't." I bit my lip. "What would?"

"If you started thinking, that would be a good start."

Everybody seemed to tell me that. And at the same time I was kept so busy with learning stuff and simply coping that I hardly found a minute to reflect on anything. Maybe I should get a second brain to do some thinking.

"You saved my life."

He didn't elaborate. After a while I wondered what he wanted from me. Had doing that been wrong? Maybe I should apologise. I nodded, probably looking stupid. But before I could say anything he went on after all.

What were you _thinking_?"

"That you'd like being alive better than being dead?" I volunteered. "That, certainly I would rather see you live than die. I'd rather see everybody live than die, but normally I don't get a say in that." I paused and looked at the bound Noghri. Then I glanced at my right foot. "Would you rather be dead?"

For a long moment there was no reply. "Even if, so what?"

Swallowing hard, I knelt, sitting down on my feet and put my hands on the floor beside my boots. "Impossible is nothing." The words didn't want to come out. My whole body went tense with the thought that his answer might be affirmative. There was no way I could think about it, not even if he wanted to die. But this was not my decision - not this time.

"I will not forget this, Ms. Morrison," Rukh growled. His gaze touched on the hidden knife. "For now, you have saved my life."

He had said that before. He expected something from me, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I considered Barhekh's death again. That had not been the plan. Stupid Grand Admiral. I really should have ha a word about that with him. Maybe I still would.

"You can tell the Grand Admiral that I accept the debt."

My attention returned to Rukh. "What?" There was my mouth being fast than my head again. It earned me a stern look saying that there had been something about me starting to think not long ago. Thinking, okay. I could do that. Though I had no clue how my saving Rukh made him owe anything to Thrawn. Owe, debt, saving life, debt. Oh.

Oh.

I felt my jaw drop and it took some time until I managed to pick it up again and find my voice. "You don't have to, you know. Really, you don't."

He growled. "What are the alternatives?"

"I'll make Thrawn let you go." Such a bold promise.

"Me and all the secrets about his Empire I know."

Oh, again. Well, considered in this light it was indeed a bit unlikely. "There will always be the alternative," I finally promised him. "I will make sure of it."

"That is acceptable."

Nodding I got up. "For now acceptable will do, but not forever."

"Rise as Khanathitera," he said gravelly.

It sounded like a formal parting. I hoped it was. I really, really did. With a final nod, I activatd the buzzer. My face was probably as blank as Dave's and it did not matter that our hands touched when I returned the device. I felt numb all over.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	111. 110

One Hundred and Ten

It turned out that being cold frozen helped a lot with Chiss style conversation. Standing beside myself, I watched all the little signs and even found a moment or two to analyse a bit of Thrawn's body language. And it was somehow obvious and impossibly stupid of me to have missed before and really what have I been thinking? - that he showed only signs meant to be seen by me. He was like a canvas with splashes of colour, there was absolutely nothing to be seen that was not intended and precisely modulated. His degree of self-control was incredible, but only making me more angry. From the very first day there had been nothing for me to see. Nothing but well placed 'slips' of composure, allegedly issued under his own radar of consciously control of body language.

I felt myself stiffen, trying to wipe my own canvas clean. Of course, he noticed, but there was no visible response. Not that _that_ mattered any. I put my anger into deep freeze and even managed not to tilt my head in irritation. I had been good at hiding signals; I could be even better. Even if I looked like frozen at the beginning. I put a smile on my canvas and turned my palm forwards; it would be accepting or warding off.

"Rukh says to tell he accepts your offer." My fingers curled slightly, demanding.

Thrawn's eyes flashed shortly and he turned his head slightly away from me. "It will be taken into consideration."

But that would not do. He might not be wishing to discuss this now, with me or even ever, but I didn't _want_ to drop it. My fingers curled into a fist, but I didn't make another move. I had no leverage anyway. The edges of my cold anger started to thaw. "I am sure you will do everything necessary."

His mouth tightened, but I ignored it. Any visible proof of possible reactions going on in him were just another show. I duly noted the intended effect. The smile covered my whole canvas and I willed my anger to freeze over again. A mindset that got me smoothly through exercising with Arn as well and lessons by Seros, though he did his best to be utterly annoying.

Dinner and reception etiquette was still not my favourite subject. There were too many ways to politely say please, yes and no. Seros did not teach me how to politely call people idiots, though. He probably knew why and I moped in Chiss body language which was totally lost on him. At least, he was a good dancer, even if I would never attend to any of the posh Core events he described to me. It was certainly more fun than greeting the twice removed second cousin of a Moff's great-grand-uncle.

The last item on my agenda was the shooting range. I still did not get a deecee. But the cold weight of the blaster was reassuring. Not because I could shoot somebody dead from the distance, but because I knew that the butt would add power to my punch should I try to hit somebody. I was probably approaching this all wrong.

"Are you alright?" Arn asked as I reloaded.

I nodded and fired another round of volleys into the targets, most of which hit with satisfactory precision. That meant you could imagine where they were supposed to hit. Then I lowered the weapon and looked at Arn who was still watching me intently.

"I really am, Arn," I filed the half pleading tone away for later use. "I am a bit distracted, but I am really trying to concentrate on this." A smile appeared on my face and seemed to appease his worries. I would have to be more careful around him. He was too good at noticing changes with me. It would probably be better to just relax, watch what I usually did and then put it on display at need.

"Say," I leaned over to him and put my hand on his arm, "what would I have to do to worry you into giving me a deecee?"

He laughed and turned away. "You can't, Mellanna. As long as your shots are only going into the general direction of their intended target points you only get more practice with a standard blaster."

I resumed shooting and wondered what for. Of course it could be put down to keeping me busy; most things I did could. But I could not let that bother me, because it would lead nowhere. I reloaded several times before the practice was over, shooting with a concentration as if the red bolts would pinpoint my options for me to investigate. If options was not too big a word again.

I could only wait. Draw back into myself and practice being but a canvas of what I wanted to show and be patient. Putting plans into action was nothing I was good at. I reacted. I did that well. (At least I had to believe it not to feel completely helpless.) Once things started to happen I would have to act fast. I would need plans, contingency plans, backup plans, emergency plans and they were not to show. Ever.

I would be as cold and patient as ice. _Luah'eriki'taotoatoa, beim'oriri'katiaro'katere. _If Chiss could do it, so could I. _Second to none.*_ The woman in the mirror gave me a cold stare and I approved. This worked around Thrawn. It would work around Dave. I would learn to make it work for Arn and he'd never notice. Demeanour. Attitude.

I lay down making plans for all occasions. Unnumbered possibilities and the more I imagined ahead, the better. Fanfiction in all but name. I closed my eyes and thought about Rukh, Dave, Jaing and the way the puzzle of the galaxy _should_ come together. React, ride the avalanche. Character is destiny, but if we can change our character, we can change our destiny**. The Vong reared their ugly heads in the future and I curled into a ball under my blanket trying to incorporate their destruction into all of my plans.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

* * *

.

.

.

* from: Limelight - The Alan Parsons Project

** Borrowed from Lightning on the Wave


	112. 111

One Hundred and Eleven

Time went by and I felt like I was being sheltered from anything going on outside the small routines of my days. I had no idea about the politics going on, and even when I asked directly, I got no answers. Still I managed to keep my anger frozen deep inside of me. The edges might have thawed now and then, but all in all the cold was impenetrable. The reactions to it varied.

Seros seemed to approve that I finally had myself under control. Thrawn didn't show anything that was not a well-planned reaction anyway, so I ignored it. Being around Arn was delicate. I tried to watch my unconscious behaviour around him and systemise them. That was very difficult because once I looked for the unconscious gestures and movements, they were not unconscious any more.

And then there was Dave. I didn't know how he felt, following me around. As for me, I felt a load lift from my shoulders when only Lyk was at my back. The only thing he wanted was dispose of me quietly. I could live with that.

Staring across the small table at Dave was something else entirely. Datacards were spread between us and a three-dimensional display of Byss hung in the air between us. I liked the green highlights it made in his eyes. I think, I should not have noticed them. I should have kept my attention on the floor plans. I should have been happy that the informants were still alive and this had just been a stroke of luck. But it was so temporary.

However they had managed to get some unexpected information to us, that just meant they would have more space in their final data dump and hoped to add some more delicate stuff for us. Stuff that was more difficult for them to get, too. More dangerous. I just hoped Sev knew what he was doing and didn't get caught; and killed.

"Timing will be crucial," Dave told me with his precise voice. And I stared into the display. Since the planet had a shield which was conveniently powered from the surface, it was imperative that the first thing to do was get behind the shield. The plan was to use the trick with the empty seeming cargo holds again. Unarmed ships would approach the planet under some kind of pretence and get allowed to pass. Once under the shield, they would change course for the generators. Troops with guns hidden by the cloaking shield inside the cargo bays would have to incapacitate the shield generators so the invasion could start for good.

Timing was very important here, because the aim was not to lose all the transports in the process. I stared at the blips moving before my eyes without really seeing anything and wondered why I was sitting here at all. I would not be leading this attack. After all, it was supposed to succeed, and his Admiralship was too clever to put me in charge and produce an automatic fail. I glanced at Dave who didn't seem to notice my wandering mind. I checked my canvas and found interest and attention written on it.

"The Force users will be a problem, " I said, skipping through bits of floor plans.

"The portable nutrition frames for the Ysalamiri are being improved," he told me, flipping back to show the whole complex again.

I stared at the red dots scattered across it which denoted Force users. "That will cause trouble for our Force users," I objected.

"How can you know we have any?"

"Because, if we don't, I'll just shoot myself and spare me the trouble." I sighed. Jusik would probably be there with Venku, so I had to tell them to be alert. Luke could handle being without the Force, I had to trust on that, though telling him about the possibility was also a good idea. "Even if we wrapped the whole of Byss in Ysalamiri -" I broke off. "Well, that might just work."

Dave pressed his lips together for a moment, the clone equivalent of suppressing a smile. "Infeasible. The use of Ysalamiri will be restricted to some operations, but those don't have to concern you."

I nodded. Another thing to mention to Jaing and Luke. If only his Admiralship had been that cooperative. But he was not; far from it. Everything he deigned to talk about was Chiss and the only language he deigned to speak was Chieunh. He was driving me up the wall and it was very difficult not to show it.

"You are receiving all the information you need," he told me coldly.

"From who's point of view?" I asked back, uttering a challenge with all gestures I could remember.

In response, he closed all all communication inward. "The one that matters."

Faced with an iceberg of refusal to even talk about the topic left me without many choices. I could not simply turn and leave, because Chiss just didn't do that. I had also no chance to win again a life-long player of Chiss nasty games with my few weeks of lessons. I held on to my own cold anger, taking up a carefully neutral demeanour. Except for tilting my head slightly, I just couldn't help it.

Thrawn razed any kind of body language from himself with a flash of his eyes. It was probably a stalemate, if I was favouring my own position enormously. "I am sure you will find more than enough information to send to your friends in the coming days." He smiled tightly.

"_A'rare," _I replied, turning back to the displays. "_To'ka'kina'tei heremo, Mitth'raw'nuruodo." _Formal politeness was the greatest distance I could find in that moment. Full names, wearing the colours would have helped, too. Not to mention that I didn't have any.

He shook his head, a purely human gesture now. "_Her'ua, Mellanna." _The tight smile broadened a bit and I read the message it held.

Accordingly I relaxed, painting some optimism on my face. He wanted me to trust him; he wanted me to feel more at ease in his presence. I fought the urge to close my eyes and take a deep breath. _Pretend_, I told myself. So I let my shoulders slump a little and glanced around the room as if I couldn't make up my mind on where to look.

"_Heim'erea'seene," _I let my index finger rub my thumb as if absent-minded. Watching myself had yielded very useful information. And I got through the lesson about the evolving of the Ruling Houses and their splitting of power. Everything ended some time. I was still taut and caught up in Chiss body language as I went back to my quarters.

Everything seemed to slip from my grasp. I wanted to know why, I wanted to do something against it, I wanted - I stopped at my door and turned.

"Dave..." There was an ocean of questions hiding in that one word, not to emotions flowing all over my face.

A hard smile appeared on his face. "Everything will be alright."

I lowered my eyes, nodded and still looking at my feet turned and closed the door. I had to believe him; I really had to. If I didn't believe him, who would I believe? Nobody. Nothing. And I didn't want that to happen, no matter how true it was. I sat down working on my belief.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	113. 112

One Hundred and Twelve

Things started to be "alright" soon afterwards. An almost bouncing Seros spelled out certain doom, though dressed up with high heels and a dress. I loved wearing high heels again and he was happy with my lack of stumbling and falling over. Grace - now that was still something he had to work on ferociously. Of course there was a very easy way for me to get more practice and I was even a little proud of myself for talking him into it.

"No." Arn crossed his arms before his chest and shook his head. "No."

Swinging my sticks thoughtfully as I circled him I grinned as the heels made satisfactory clicking noises on the floor. "Oh yes," I told him. "And not only this. Next time I'll make sure to come in a dress, too. You will help me to hide the knife and use it in such get up."

"That is not on the schedule," he insisted.

I crouched for a moment, aiming a few hits at his knees and feet. "I just put it there."

"With what authority?"

I grinned, still circling, never letting my sticks come to rest. "Mine."

"You don't have any." That soft and scolding tone again.

Smiling, I refroze the edges of my anger, still moving. When I was facing him again, I nodded sharply, pulling the sticks close to my chest in the formal greeting. Then I turned and left. If Arn tried anything to change my mind, I didn't notice. It was hight time to take influence on my schedule and I knew just the right person to accost about it.

It never got to that.

"I see you are preparing for you next assignment," Thrawn said after throwing a short glance at me.

I filed the information away for later use intent on my current goal and body language. "I seem to have encountered a problem, sir."

A thin smile appeared on his lips. "I am sure a solution will be found." His posture indicated some time in the future, nothing definite.

I didn't want to accept that. "Cooperation shines brightly on colours not yours," I told him in Cheunh. I made my canvas say that I would not just take this lying down in no uncertain terms. I would lose this fight most likely, but it would still be practice for the war.

"And your learning makes your patterns transparent," he replied. "Communication in close circles will be more important to you than politics."

It was telling that the Cheunh word for politics did not come from meaning 'thin and slippery ice abut to break under you' but actually from 'complicated dance for the gifted'. Not to mention that 'complicated', 'dance' and 'gifted' were each made up from many smaller bits of varying shades of meaning. "I have no choice but to dance when there is a tune."

"Your motions don't fit the tune."

"_A'rare_," I pulled all signals back from my canvas. Then I let seemingly unguarded anger creep over it for a second before covering it up with opposition again.

"It would make your life easier if you started to trust my decisions." He turned his palms towards his body and tilted his head back showing the matter was closed and I was to consider who was in the superior position here.

I tilted my head in half a nod, mixing human and Chiss signals in my gesture. The next move demanded meticulous attention though. I turned my head to the side, tilting it backwards a little. My right hand mirrored the turn coming to rest on the same place on my belt where a formal Chiss dress robe would have the hidden knife. After a moment, the rest of my body followed the turn. My hand moved back to my hip where I covered it with my left and I left without looking back.

_I will not be beaten._

It was an old gesture and meant much more than that, but all in Cheunh. It indicated the will to fight back with all means available, never lay the arms down, never back down accept no refusal. It was a decision, a final stance. It spoke of the determination not to give in regardless of the results and chances more than the actual ability to achieve anything. I thought it described my situation rather well.

Lyk escorted me dutifully to my quarter where I sat down in front of my terminal to mope. And learn some more Chiss body language to fling at his Admiralship. I was trying to save a galaxy and he was not being cooperative. As far as I knew.

"Everything is prepared."

I almost jumped into my screen when a soft voice growled into my ear. When I turned around, I found myself face to face with Rukh. "Good heavens, you almost scared me to death," I got out before a maelstrom of questions took over my head. I grabbed at the first thing flying by and just went with what I got. "What is everything?"

"Your travel bags, the ship and you mission objectives." Her handed ma a datacard which I automatically accepted. "Sergeant Toris expects you at 1700."

I tried to shake off the shock. At least I still had over an hour to prepare myself, but looking at the deluge of questions in my head I wondered if I even got close to clearing anything up. "What are you doing here?"

"My duty."

"Does that mean, you'll come along?"

"Of course."

He was no more talkative than Barhekh had been. I wondered if that was natural or came from serving he Empire. But I would be off the _Chimera _soon with Rukh in tow and with some luck an opportunity would open itself to get him to freedom. I winced when I imagined how Thrawn and Toris would most likely take the loss of the ship. Which was probably bugged. Gah, my head was thinking Imperial thoughts again.

When I leafed through the mission it soon became clear that setting free Rukh would be a challenge. I was to travel to Yaga Minor with a pack of engineers to reinforce, rather uncalled for, Deerian's people working on Disra's defence system. It would look as if Thrawn suspected Disra of doing - things. Or that was the plan as far as I could see one.

I didn't really get how they planned to hide Rukh though. It was not as if the accumulation of teeth and muscle looked like an engineer exactly. But that would not be my problem. What was more my problem, was that Yaga Minor was deep in Imperial Space. I would be very far from anything his Admiralship cooked up, and I would bet my ass that he was cooking up something big. When I realise that I was drumming my fingers, I stopped with a sigh.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	114. 113

One Hundred and Thirteen

I didn't get to see Yaga Minor at all. After arriving Toris immediately shooed us to the places where engineering the defences happened. That was mostly in stations around the planet and shipyards. Disra was left for others to deal with and make nervous. At least that saved me more political dinners. My memories of that were not really happy.

We didn't travel with the _Liberty_ either; it was left behind at the _Chimera_. Instead we used a shuttle, which also provided enough place for the dozens of technicians we needed to shuffle around. As much as I liked Imperial shuttles, this made it very difficult to send Rukh off with my ship.

Posing as Toris' second in command turned me pretty much into a metaphorically paper pushing engineer wannabe. I had no idea what he debated with Deerian and the other technicians, so most of the time I stood around feigning interest and understanding. Rukh trailed me disguised as a trainee who has a nasty incident with plasma at work. His whole face and hands were bandaged and since it was (allegedly) doubtful if he could ever return to his former work, he now trained as a paper pusher. It was as good a story as any.

My position brought me in contact mostly with more technicians who were all technology and little interest in politics. After a whole week, all I could find out without looking like a complete idiot was, that there was possibly a cease fire between the Republic and the Empire. Both parties looked down their noses at the other, armoured up to their teeth. It seemed that the Republic was not very impressed, not even with Parck and his reinforcements. Probably nobody believed the story of the second Empire in the Unknown Regions. People were stupid like that. It was just a matter of time before small skirmishes flared up into full war again.

But at Yaga Minor, we were more interesting than all that. Speculations flew high to why we were really here, nobody believed that that we were just reinforcements for Deerian. But it was up to debate whether we were here to topple him, or Disra or somebody else completely. _That_ we meant to overturn somebody was generally accepted, though.

MY technical vocabulary sky-rocketed which unfortunately didn't mean I understood anything. Controlled changes of the shields' phases seemed to be difficult due to unpredictable circular feedback especially with more plates involved. While more plated actually meant better control over the phases themselves. Whatever.

Deerian turned out to be a nice elderly gentleman with a passion for defences. He secured the place with a vengeance that made me glad he was working here and not on Byss. He mad impenetrable happen.

"Agent Toris is still unhappy with the security of the secondary backup circuits of the space-side capacitive couplings," I said and gave him a few datacards. There was most likely nothing wrong with them, but Toris was using the most flimsy excuses possible to hang around and watch Disra from the corners of his eyes. Or that was what it was supposed to look like.

Deerian accepted the cards with a short nod. "We had trouble calibrating the backlash, but thought we had solved the problem by overlapping the output feedback with the directional vacillation. I will check on it. And this," he gave me some datacards in return, "is the improved layout of the multi-layered array control grid."

My ability to feign knowledge was tested thoroughly. I stared at the labyrinthine maze of wires and nodes. A layer of description was placed over it and then layer after layer of mazes and descriptions added themselves slowly. I watched with interest as Deerian pointed out the changes and nodded at appropriate places. Possibly.

"You don't understand a word, do you?" Deerian asked agreeably.

"I'm afraid that's true," I had to agree. "But not because of your explanatory skills, sir."

He shook his head as if to himself. "And you have no idea what you got yourself into, either."

"Well, not really. But I know it's for the greater good and I am very much responsible for the upcoming events. So I can hardly complain, no matter what." I tried to smile.

"Trust and idealism can get you killed, girl."

"They can also save your life," I objected.

"Don't count on it, liaison," he switched back to my formal title, his tone resigned. "There is no final safety." For whatever reasons he seemed to be sad, even as he returned to working on what looked like final safety to me.

I wandered back to Toris, trying to keep tabs on Rukh. He was still difficult to see; it was probably old habits dying hard. I wondered if he was even trying. I was tempted to forget about him sometimes, he certainly made that easy. But I didn't want to. Even if there was no way to get him into safety from here, forgetting that he existed would surely not improve matters any.

Rukh trailed me and I trailed Toris as he stalked through defence stations, ground defences and constructions sites. I accepted datacards with a stern mien and hoped to radiate superior knowledge as I nodded at things that could have been electronic canary juicers for all I knew. And there were a lot of electronic canary juicers, the whole places seemed to be stuffed with them, not to mention satellites orbiting the planet, stations doing the same and an elaborate set-up of them around the shipyards.

They all looked pretty much the same to me. But I went along with my part and just hoped, Disra did whatever he was expected to do soon, so we could elevate Deerian to his position and be gone again.

To his defence, Deerian never blew my cover. No matter how many messages I ran and what nonsense I probably told him. All I got were questioning glances now and then, as if to ask whether I was sure this was worth it. And I answered them all with a small nod, making him shake his head. We were disagreeing very much.

"You don't want to go there."

"Do I get a choice?" I took the latest set of datacards. "It sounded like an official affair."

"It would," Deerina agreed. "That way he can probably deduct is as expenses. He really wants to bribe your people with it, and knowing him, it might just as well work."

I sighed. "Raucous guy party, huh?"

"With all it entails, yes." He put a hand of my shoulder. "Whatever is in this for you, don't tempt fate like this."

I wondered if he was that protective of all women in the general age group of his granddaughter, but I did agree with him. "I will probably suffer a sudden attack of migraine," I told him with a smile. I really liked him and what would I miss? A load of drunken men and possibly hired entertainment. Considering the infinitesimally small number of women working in the Empire, not to mention engineering in the Empire, it was asking a lot to expect entertainment for us as well. Not that it mattered much.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	115. 114

One Hundred and Fourteen

"Where have you been?" Toris demanded before I had a chance to slip away into my quarters.

"Generally around the place? " I didn't get the fuss and didn't want to tell him that I had spent quite a while searching for a window to look out of. Space stations were horrible places in that respect.

"And when did you intend to grace the party with our attendance?"

"Not at all?"

He almost pushed me into my quarter. "And what did you think you were doing here and what you were here for?" He pointed at something that might have been a dress if you added some more cloth to it.

I snorted. "Since nobody deigned to fill me in, I did whatever I thought of. I am willing to cooperate, should I know how."

"You will go to that party and talk to Disra." Toris said exaggeratedly slow as if that had been obvious. "Except if you believe you are here to help with the defence project...?"

Well, no. I was not _that _stupid. But that didn't mean I did know what I was supposed to be doing here. I refused to read minds and play head-games; except with his Admiralship. I stumbled over that attitude but had no time to think about it.

"So off you go," Toris went on. "Get his attention, grab his interest and whatever he wants, go along."

He left me with the bad excuse for a dress. Now this was weird. Not that I thought Disra could be made interested in me as a plaything, not to mention I'd rather kill him than - ew! Couldn't even think of it. And seeing what the long term plan was, I didn't think Thrawn as actually thinking in that direction either. I hoped. Really. Or I would just kill him too. No joking. So what was it, that I was supposed to go along with?

I brushed out my hair end experimented with the suddenly available make-up in my fresher. I couldn't get my mind off the dress though. Firstly, it should not have fit. Secondly, when it did, it should not have looked any kind of good on me. And thirdly, it should not have been able to evoke the impression that it left nothing up to imagination while actually covering all important bits. The woman staring back from the mirror looked like a cheap hired escort.

"Ya," I sighed and glanced longingly at my knife. There was no way I could conceal it, but it bothered me that I had to leave it behind. I would have to trust in my ability to kill people with the high heels on my shoes. Snort.

The party was pretty much what I had expected. Young ladies entertained the technicians in various way, only some of them G-rated. The guys enjoyed themselves enormously. Cooping up so many men for such a long time in such a small space was obviously a patent remedy for wild parties.

I made my way to the small buffet and helped myself to a glass of punch. Scanning the room for Disra I felt at the same time incredibly young and old. Young because I was back at the times of high school parties, being the one to sip her drink, stand around and admire the decorations. Old because it was at least fifteen years since my last high school party.

Slowly I made my way around the room, wondering if Disra had even bothered to appear. I couldn't think of any reasons why he should. Well, he could. He was standing with two more men, deep in conversation and seemingly unaware of the hubbub going on around them. Squaring my shoulders I got ready for the show.

_Here goes nothing_, I though as I sneaked into the group. "Well, well gentlemen. I hope you are not brooding over work at an occasion like this." I gave them my brightest smile.

Three pairs of eyes settled on me and I wondered if I had just barraged into something like a local yakuza talk. Ouch.

"Even if we were, it would be highly impolite to bore a young woman like you with it, would it not?" Disra smiled and it did not look friendly the least. If I had not been told to get glued to his heels, I would have made off with high speed now.

"I am not easily bored," I replied. "And sure that distinguished gentlemen like you have no trouble to be entertaining should you wish to."

"Should we wish to, exactly," one of the other men said. He had a thin face, dark eyes lying in deep sockets, gleaming like gimlets.

This was worse than digging your own grave. "You really need to relax sometimes," I kept pushing. "All work and no play, as the saying goes." I reached out to touch his drawn cheek. "You look like you are in dire need of some play." Somehow I feared that my fervent hope he might be thinking of the Empire Drinking Game now was very vain.

He did not bat my hand away but rather held it too tight to be pleasant. "The games we play are not for the likes of you," he told me. It was clear from his tone that to him the likes of me were not engineers and technicians.

"How would you know?" I asked back. I did not understand much about the defences, but I could try to drown them in technobabble. I had become very good at that.

Disgusted, he let go of my hand. "They are becoming more and more annoying, are they not?"

Disra eyed me like a predator and I grinned because I couldn't think of anything else. Annoying was my trademark.

"Indeed," he swirled his drink in his glass never taking his eyes off me. "But since she asked so nicely, maybe we can make an exception?"

They exchanged glances I did not comprehend and looked very thoughtful. "You won't regret it, that's for sure." I hoped that nobody listened in because I was doing great work at embarrassing myself here. But Toris said to get hold of Disra and so I would. What was the worst that could happen? Ew!

"Say, miss-?"

"Mellanna," I provided happily.

"Miss Mellanna, do you like games?" The cold smile was back on his face. But I couldn't really care because I was about to accomplish my mission.

"I love games!" I tried to convey the image of wanting to bounce but not quite dare. Learning to control body language did me a lot of good right now. "I'd be delighted. Will there be a prize for the winner?"

"There always is," Disra said enigmatically. "If you would care to join us."

It was not a question really. Neither was the way he took hold of my elbow a polite escorting gesture. It might have felt like being kidnapped if I had not agreed to this. A nasty feeling tried to creep up on me but I shook it off. His Admiralship said to trust his decisions. Well, this would prove if we could. Provided I got back in one coherent enough piece to scold him if it didn't work out; whatever the plan was.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	116. 115

One Hundred and Fifteen

I followed the three men, trying to gauge how they related to each other. Disra looked at least twice as old as the others and they were in their mid-forties already. The dark haired one held on to my arm as if it was some kind of prize, his eyes never leaving my body. This reaction surprised me a little (I blamed it on the dress) but it did make him a little bit predictable. The other man had a square face void of colour. Almost translucent blue eyes sat under hair that was nearly white. He didn't stop to scowl once, his eyes cold enough to freeze space.

Finally we arrived in a small room. In front of a window (so there it hid out!) was a table with something looking like a paperweight on it. Other than that it was empty, nothing on the walls, no furniture.

"I don't think this will work," Blondie said, shooting a glance at Disra.

"Oh, I will make it work," the Moff replied and turned towards me smiling amicably as a hyena. "Do you see the keycard, Mellanna?" I nodded. "Just bring it back here."

Creepy Lech tightened his hand around my elbow at this as if I was about to run off. Fat chance.

"Where is the catch?" I wanted to know looking around. "And how is it a game?"

"Maybe you misunderstood what game referred to," Lech murmured into my ear. It made me jump away from him, or at least try, as he just pulled me back at my elbow. Putting his other hand around my throat he pushed my face to the side with his thumb. Now this would be fun.

"Jaori," the blonde one snapped surprisingly and Creepy Lech even dropped his hands.

But Disra shook his head. "Let him Kint," he said softly. "No harm done."

Lech, who I should be calling Jaori, rested his hand on the small of my back in a way that made me want to kick his balls out through his ears. If looks could have done more than just look, he'd have been dead and I defiled. I was so busy being annoyed that I didn't stop to think what he was actually looking at.

"She's just a working girl," Kint insisted. "We can't expect anything from her."

Hey. Now that was mean. Just because I was just a worker that didn't mean I was stupid now, did it? I watched as the three men exchanged glances.

"She will do nicely," Disra insisted. "And since I - obtained her, settling matters after the final stage should be easy."

I didn't like how they talked as if I wasn't around. I didn't like how Mr. Moff claimed to own me. And I certainly didn't like how Jaori didn't bother to retrieve his eyes from my cleavage or how his hand slowly crept around my hip. And I didn't like how everybody thought that was fine as if I was one of those, of those - um. Well, I did have a tendency to overlook innuendo and working girl was surely a nice understatement, wasn't it? Oh dear, they thought I was one of the hired girls.

Now that was plain stupid. Okay, I had not seen any of them before, certainly not Disra, even though Toris had met with the Moff often enough. There had always been very reasonable reasons why I had not been there to accompany him. Bother. It was not really surprising nobody had told me anything about the plan beforehand.

"Will do what nicely?" I finally asked.

Jaori opened his mouth, probably to say 'me' but Disra was cut him off with a curt gesture. I was actually grateful. "We have set up a little show-jumping course in this room. Nothing too difficult, obviously." His grin was so tight his skin looked about to break.

"I can see nothing," I objected. "That is not fair."

"Oh no worries," he commented in a very worrying way. "None of it is set to lethal."

I eyed the room cautiously, not reassured the least. Judging from the glint in Disra's eyes everything might just as well _add up_ to be lethal. So it was more fun to watch. It was not a game I wanted to play at all. And in case I had ever dreamt up such an arrangement, I had certainly be sitting at the end of the obstacle course waiting to be rescued by my 'brother' and lover only in reversed roles. I would have given my right arm for either of them right now.

Which left the question where my personal assassin had gone to. When he even pretended to have the proper burn marks. I laughed out and three pairs of eyes zoomed in on me. Oops. I did forget where I was for a moment there. Moving my shoulders uncomfortably I looked back at them. "So I get you the keycard and them I can go?"

"That is it," Jaori nodded. His hand crept up my back which lacked any kind of covering and came to rest on my neck. It took all my self-control not to shudder when he squeezed lightly. "And do not worry if you can't. I shall take care of you in that case."

Now that made me feel much better.  
Not. _So_ not!  
Six feet of creepy lecherous Imp were nothing to calm your nerves any. Except if you were into that kind of thing. But he was definitely the wrong kind of creepy for me. I just wished he'd take his hand off my neck. As if reading my thoughts, Jaori squeezed again. Then he let go and the three men left me. Um.

I stared ahead for a long moment wishing I had watched more spy films. Rukh did not take the chance to come to my rescue. Bother. So how did one trigger traps? Photoelectric barriers. Okay. How did one check for them? Well. I really - really really _really_, and promise from now on to do so - should have taken the powder with me. It would have been a good smoke screen to look for any hidden beams.

What else?

I could try to trigger them, hopefully without getting shot. Though they were not supposed be lethal; in theory. I ripped a piece off my skirt which was surprisingly easy. After some waving that triggered absolutely nothing I was about to take a step forwards when I remembered pressure sensors. Oh. Well.

I stared at the floor. There was no way I could test for pressure sensors without applying pressure. That only left the question if I treasured my arms or my legs more. I decided to keep both arms whole for the moment and took a step forwards. Nothing happened. Wow. I sure must look stupid.

Or not. When I lifted the other foot, a red bolt shot right into my calf. It sure was not lethal, but hurt like hell. And it did start to smell singed. Where the hell _was_ Rukh? Three steps and singes later I started to wonder what I was actually doing. None of this was supposed to be lethal and I was only making a fool out of myself by trying to avoid the traps. The pattern of the shots also indicated they were meant to go off all ant once each time and turn the approaching person into a sieve. I had had a different idea of what working on defences would include.

With a sigh I took my high heels off. For a second I was tempted to throw them at that stupid keycard. But since that would not bring it to me I didn't even try. Instead, I dropped them on the ground before me. Something hit my arm and when I looked a small dart protruded from it. Just great. This was getting better all the time.

I shook my head and plucked the dart from my arm. This was ridiculous and I refused to play. Okay, I could have decided on that sooner. Maybe the punch had been spiked and clouded my mind. Measuring the distance, I put my arms around my head to cover all important bits and just went. Several places of my body went 'ouch' rather insistently, but when I looked around, I was standing right before the keycard.

So much for that. My right arm was going numb now and the stars behind the transparisteel started to waver. Hello med bay, here I come. I stared at the stars which were really rather pretty with their coloured auroras.

"Take the card," Disra's voice suddenly sounded through the room.

Surprised, I looked around, but he was not there. Squinting I might have been able a bit of wall that possibly was see-through one way. I waved; just in case. Then I looked back at the stars. There were so preciously few windows on stations like this.

"The card?" Mr. Moff sounded impatient.

I looked around again and then down at the small item. There was nothing else in the room and my right arm felt really numb now. I could still move it, but it hang in an odd angle. So why was there a window here, when there was noting in the room but a keycard. That was not making sense. I mean, some kind of important tinsel boy probably craved for a window in his dark little quarter now.

I lifted my arm high enough so that the had dangled over the keycard. I could move my fingers if erratic. It might just be enough to pick up the card. But I didn't. Instead I looked back at the stars. The window made no sense whatsoever and was suddenly very suspicious. And wouldn't Disra be in trouble if news of this ever got out? I mean, even in case I was just a ho.

Pressure sensors, something whispered at the back of my mind and suddenly that huge boulder went on after Indy. Yep, that was the way things worked. Only there were no boulders here. There were just the stars.  
Oh.  
I could not really pick up that stupid piece of bait now, but how long could I stand here and not pick it up before Disra jettisoned me anyway. I had even messed up my chance to play my numb arm for all it was worth. I dropped the hand clumsily on the desk, probably hurting my fingers, but at least far enough from the keycard to trigger no traps.

"Oops." I picked the arm up with my other hand. I didn't want to die and if there was a cavalry, it should have moved its sorry grey butt here long ago. But I couldn't really trigger my own death. It sure took a stronger person for such a thing. My hand hovered over the keycard again. I didn't want to die. I felt the arm grow heavy and lower slowly. Oh bother.

And then they cavalry did arrive. The door burst open and I dropped my hand on the keycard. Red alarms went off all over the place, but nothing else seemed to happen. A loud voice declared there to be a leak into space on a level that was probably this and a sector which was most likely here. Me knees gave in and Rukh managed to tower over me when he arrived. "That was late," I tried to scold.

He shook his head, put an injector to my neck and something cold rushed into my vein. Like the stars before, Rukh got a pretty aurora and then things went black. With a last thought, I wished that wouldn't happen so often.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	117. 116

One Hundred and Sixteen

I woke up in a med bay. Again. How often had that happened since I came here? Too often for sure. I would soon be worried should I wake up in something like my own quarters. Toris was talking with a medic, obviously unhappy about either the situation or the news he got. When he saw that I was awake, he nodded at me shortly and began a new verbal barrage at the medic.

Finally he was allowed to see me. He approached with a stern face looking none too happy. "Good morning, Ms. Morrison," he said. "Your next way from here will lead to Moff Disra. No detours, that is important. And you have to hurry up before the twenty-four hour extension is over."

Extension? Of what? And why should I ever want to see Disra again, except with a Noghri pointed at him? And at Jaori. I ran my hand over my face.

"There is no time to lose," Toris urged. "You have only an hour left. Disra was incapacitating you thoroughly and it took all skill the medics could find to make you function now. Nobody knows how long it will last either. And the Rules demand you claim satisfaction within the twenty four hours after the offence.

At least Toris was making some kind of sense now. Somehow they had baited Disra into almost killing me. They had also succeeded in keeping it almost and now I would do - whatever. Whatever. I buried the rising hot anger under my iceberg again. I opened my eyes again and nodded. "What is my script?"

Toris gave me an uneasy look, but also handed my a pad. "The parts in italics have to be word perfect or it will not be accepted as an official request for satisfaction. The other parts have to be mentioned, but the words can be your own."

I glanced over the text. One hour was not much time but the bits in italics looked manageable. I tried not to think of Rukh not reaching me in time. I tried not to think of his Admiralship playing little games with my life. I tried not to think of asking Disra to go and kick some butt before whatever vengeance was about to happen hit him. I froze all that and ignored the edges that formed through all that thawing and freezing.

Toris watched me for a while and then found something better to do. The medics gave me a wide berth. My angry thoughts did not.

Then I got up, dressed and squared my shoulders. A last time I rehearsed my script and went to claim satisfaction. I tried to keep my mind on people in old-fashioned costumes with muzzleloaders and seconds meeting at sunrise. My boots made very military sounds on the floor and I sure radiated a self-confident annoyance I was not really feeling. Well, annoyance yes, but not for the reasons I'd use it.

It was lucky that Disra was not alone when I found him in his office. Protocol demanded witnesses. That blonde guy, Kint was there. I wondered why I didn't demand anything from him, Jaori, okay, the mere idea to put him and satisfaction into one sentence made me want to vomit.

I planted myself in front of the Moff and looked at him coldly. "Vilim Disra, you have endangered my life recklessly, needlessly and without authorisation. Your behaviour is a shame on the educated and civilised people of the Core and its Empire. Records of your missteps are secured with my second Sergeant Toris, the medical staff and have also been sent to my superior, Grand Admiral Thrawn.

"The charge of insult is met by taking me for a working girl, injury of body through the course you set up, injury of the mind by forcing me to run it, endangering my life by almost jettisoning me. I bring those charges before you before witnesses and claim Kint to honour his duty."

The blonde man nodded curtly, accepting his position as witness. I had no idea what I would have done, if he had refused.

"As a member of the Empire and in the name of the Core Codex I demand satisfaction." There that was the bigger part of it. Inwardly I sighed and slumped, but the two men only saw my chin rise a notch. I glared at the Moff challengingly. I had no idea what to do if he should refuse to follow the codex. I had not even know there _was_ such a codex.

Dirsa inclined his head microscopically, the hyena smile back on his face. "The call of the Core cannot be denied."

"Three days from now, at the time of the offence," I told him. That was customary though I didn't think it made much sense. Oh well, it was an old codex. Old things didn't have to make sense. I nodded and left. Not sure it I was to return to the med bay, I just went somewhere and crouched down in a corner.

"I think you are expected," a voice told me.

When I looked up, Kint stared down at me. I suppressed the urge to kick his legs out under him. "Just a bit of dizziness," I lied, getting up again.

"To be expected." He took my arm and led me off. "You know that Disra is still sure he will get out of this alive?"

I shrugged. So the plan was to kill the Moff. Fine by me, he was on my death list anyway. Now even more than before. "Let him?" I offered.

Kint chuckled. "Of course."

"What about you?" I decided to ask him. "And Jaori?"

"Well, I am on your side," he laughed, "and seeing Disra's face when he realised thatwas well worth it. And Jaori," he paused, "Jaori did argue for letting you live rather insistently. I am afraid there is nothing we can do about him. Being a lecher is not a punishable offence. Especially if not acted upon."

I nodded and did not sigh. It was difficult enough to be the half-dizzy patient when I wanted to punch his face, double agent or not. It was a relief to reach the med bay and have Toris at my side again. He smiled. "Well done, Ms Morrison."

It took some time to summon a smile in return. "It was not that hard, sir."

"Rest now," he said. "You will need your strength when you face Disra again. Though I have been told you are a good enough shot by now to manage."

"I can hit a target, yes," I replied. So it was really pistols at sunrise. Maybe Arn should have taught me how to draw fast instead of taking good aim. I didn't sigh.

"I am sure you will get him in a lethal spot," Toris said with a grin. The he stepped aside to make place for another medic with an injection.

"Only if I can draw faster than him," I murmured.

"Oh, no worries," Toris replied. "Disra doesn't get a blaster."

Some panicky thought surged up in my mind, but the medic was faster and I felt sleep drowning out the troubles. Disra without a gun. Shoot to kill.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	118. 117

One Hundred and Seventeen

I woke up in the med bay again, a really bad habit. Rukh was sitting beside my bed waiting patiently. He was still wearing his disguise. I felt stiff all over as if I couldn't move if I wanted to.

"You have been asleep for 48 hours," he informed me. "Bacta has healed the burn marks, and all narcotics have been cleared from your system. Most of their residue has as been cleared well. You will be given medication against the side effects of the remaining ones."

Tentatively I shook my head. The world was blurring a bit, but not much. "So?"

"You will need to move around to loosen your muscles again," Rukh went on. "The narcotics have been stopped in time, but they did affect you."

"In time?" I tried to sit up.

"They were not lethal, as the Moff has assured, but left to their own, they would have destroyed a big part of your nervous system as well as some of the neural connections."

"Turned me into a vegetable, huh?" I managed to get upright, feeling slightly dizzy and starved. "I think I also need something to eat."

Rukh nodded and left. I put my head into my hands and waited. Somehow, I did not want to think.

"Nourishment before taste, hm," I said when Rukh returned with a tray of what looked like grey globs.

"You will need your strength back as soon as possible," he just replied. "The confrontation will be tonight and you can't afford to fail."

Now that was a calming thing to hear immediately after waking up. "What exactly is this whole satisfaction code thing?" I wanted to know. "What about normal jurisdiction?"

"The Code is a very old tradition, no-one in the Core would doubt its legitimacy," Rukh started to explain. "It is a test of your character as well as his."

"How so?"

"Everybody will know his offence. Your reaction to it will tell them about you. If it is adequate or whether you are going out of your way to lay your hands on somebody." He made a short pause. "You get one free shot. It is up to you, where you place it."

I mulled this over. "So, I could just shoot into the air, too?"

"In theory, yes. It has been used to save offenders from capital punishment before. But," he looked at me sternly, "this is not what we are here for."

"So what are we here for?"

"Dispose of Disra," he said flatly.

Okay. So that was the plan. I got up, shot Disra dead and we'd all go home.

Who the hell had authorised that? Of course that explained why Disra thought he'd make it out alive.

"Moff Disra is not very worried," Rukh confirmed my thoughts. "He has seen you and believes you incapable to kill."

And how right he was on that account. The mere idea to just shoot somebody because I could was - wrong. I felt tempted to drown in the remains of my grey globs. "What are the rules and procedures?" I asked instead, burying myself under the iceberg I had amassed inside.

"Moff Disra will name a place within the next three hours," he replied. "Knowing him, it will be public with many of his associates around to watch."

"Strength in numbers," I murmured.

"And public opinion, yes," Rukh agreed. "His crimes will be reported again. You are given the weapon, it will have charge enough for only one shot."

I had to smile. Seemed like incidents had happened before. "Then I shoot."

"Exactly."

There was a long silence.

I felt like returning my breakfast to the plate again. I concentrated on the tight feeling in my stomach. All would be well. All would be well. All would be well. Disra would be dead. I'd be a killer. No problem at all. Right? _Right_?

"Get dressed so we can go," Rukh's voice broke into my thoughts. "Toris is waiting."

Oh. Great.

They did a good job keeping my busy at least. My muscles had the strange notion they were made of stone and didn't have to move. I really tried to concentrate on that and ignore the wild chase my thoughts were doing in my head. Move right leg up. _Kill Disra_. Move right leg down. _I can't do it._ Move left leg up. _But I have to._ Move left leg down. _Says who?_ Move right leg up. _Thrawn_. Move right leg down. _Disra_. Move left leg up. _Have to kill him_. Move left leg down...

It did not really improve all day. It became a lot worse when we went to Disra's chosen place of confrontation: the main corridor of the station. I didn't hear one word of the charges over my thundering thoughts. Only when he spoke up to defend his defence project as something he actually intended to give to the Grand Admiral as a surprise gift, did my brain catch up for a second.

So that little set up had not been official? The Moff had been running a small side enterprise for his own profit? The way he argued with Toris implied that, even though he tried to get out of it gracefully. Grace did not work on Toris though. It might have impressed Seros, but the Sergeant was hard as stone. "There is no evidence," he proclaimed, "that you could show within the last three days of this, whereas proof for the accusation was found. The charge stands."

I felt Disra glance at me and the carousel in my head took up again. This would not work. I looked at my hands barely noticing Toris placing me in position. Disra was right. It would so not work. I accepted the weapon unthinkingly. Except that it had to. This was the best way to get at the Moff, even I realised it. It was a pity I didn't get to shoot at Jaori, too. I would have known exactly where to place that shot.

This was such a neat box to be trapped in. I stared at the weapon in my hand. I could let him go and render the whole exercise completely useless; the whole mission a failure. If I crippled him, he'd just be back with vengeance one day. No solution. And if I shot him - I killed him.

I closed my eyes.

_Kill him._

How could I? And in cold blood? And him unarmed? How could I kill anybody at all? I mean, personally. I had caused enough deaths here and they were all bad in their own way. But this was different. Not even the death of Barhekh compared. Or the murder of Fey'lya.

_Kill him?_

Disra stood looking at me calmly. I didn't know if he was allowed to speak with me, he didn't look as if he wanted to say anything to me. I licked my lips nervously. '_Everything is a test_', Toris words echoed in my head. _'Only the judges differ_.' Who would judge me for this? I would. Thrawn would. Rukh would. Toris, Dave, Arn, Seros _everybody_ would. Whose judgement mattered?

Mine.

I wanted to add Thrawn and the others to the list but their names got drowned out. They didn't have to live with what I did here and now. Killing people was easy. Looking yourself in the face afterwards, living with it, _that_ was the difficult part. But I was committed.

Whatever it takes.

Kill him.

No matter what.

I closed my eyes and raised the blaster. Left to my own devices, up against my own principles, judged by the schizophrenic psycho of my mind... But I had said 'whatever' and to never take a life. But I had said no matter; and I opened my eyes.

My mouth was dry and it took all my will to keep the weapon steady. Just because it's legal, doesn't make it right. Just because they say you can, don't - without a fight, without thinking about it. I had no justification. Left to my own devices.

I opened my eyes.

I fired.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	119. 118

One Hundred and Eighteen

Silence echoed in my head. It also drowned the whole corridor. Disra stared at me for another long second before he tumbled backwards. I didn't hear the thud of his body hitting the floor over the silence thundering in my ears.

Toris took the blaster from my unresisting hand. "Well done." The whisper barely registered in my head.

Medics rushed to the scene, having nothing to do but proclaim Disra's death. His cronies broke loose like a waterfall engulfing the corpse, and me, but Toris was at my side and Rukh did not leave it either. I was walking away from the turmoil into a small office. A very serious looking Imperial waited at a desk. Only when he spoke, I recognised him and only the combined efforts of Toris and Rukh kept me in the room.

"The outcome of the duel," Jaori said. It was not a question. He looked at me intently. I could not help but remember the night of the party. If I had had another shot right then... But I didn't. Toris pushed me down in the chair opposite of Jaori. I tried to remember how to speak.

"He is dead." Jim. It came automatically, but I managed not to say it. Knowing my luck, the guy was really called Jim in the end. "I shot him. I killed him. He is dead." Toris squeezed my shoulder and I shut up.

Jaori nodded filling in something like a form. A medic came in, supplied some information and left. Jaori shot me an inquisitive look. I decided to look at my hands. Those hands had held the blaster that killed a man. Those fingers pulled the trigger. It was not really a relief that it had been Disra. Had been; Disra was past. Squall would freak out. I would. Given the opportunity. "I shot him."

"Yes, we know," Jaori replied. "Considering his offences against you and the Empire it was predictable." He made some more notes. "If you sign this at the marked places," he pushed the pad to me, "the case will be closed. All charges will be declared concluded, not further prosecution of either party will be on."

I nodded. The form looked straightforward enough. I scrolled through it. Disra was dead. What could happen? I signed my name under it and added my fingerprint. Done and done. The dead do not return for an encore.

Jaori took the pad back. "I will have the witnesses sign it and send copies to all involved parties." He nodded curtly. "You may return to your duties now, liaison Morrison."

I stood up because Toris pulled my chair back and walked. I ended up in my quarter. Toris declared me to be in no state to work. I stared at the wall. I was in no state to sit around and think. I had shot a man. I needed something to do. Pacing didn't help. I attached the knife to my calf again and felt better. At least, it had been a blaster. Knives are even more personal.

You can not only see their eyes, you feel their skin and the blood... I closed my eyes and almost ran into the wall. Not that it mattered. Rukh watched in silence.

"Give me something to do," I said. Something that didn't involve killing people preferably. "I am going crazy."

"There is no reason to." He didn't specify if he meant for me to do something or go crazy. I sat down on the bunk. I wanted to work out until I dropped. The image of the gym of the 501st appeared before my inner eye. Yes, that would definitely work. But Fi would not be there to band aid my knuckles. And Lyk would not be there to add snide comments. And Sev was probably dead anyway. And Dave - was Dave. It might just work.

"You are in no physical condition to work out," Rukh cut into my thoughts. "The exercises earlier this day should have been clear about that."

"I have to do something," I insisted. "I just have to. Anything."

"Why?"

"Because my mind will stop spinning if I do something. I can walk. Simple, repetitive. Calming. Sorting."

"I agree that you don't seem to be coherent," Rukh conceded.

"Good. Let's go then." I didn't wait for his answer. There was nowhere to go, really. I didn't care where I ended up anyway. I just wanted to keep moving. The past always caught up with you, but for a while you might be able to run faster than it.

I stopped when we arrived in the main corridor. There was no sign that anything out of the ordinary had happened here only a short while ago. No blood, nothing. I fidgeted. This was not good. Closing my eyes I took a deep breath. "Rukh, I think I need a gym. Now."

He didn't question my this time. An empty gym was found in record time and for a moment I just stood in the middle breathing. Control. Concentration. Do something where you cannot spare a wisp of attention. Igniting my lightsaber, I started the first exercise. I did it slowly, no hasty movements with muscles sore and tense like mine. I felt like slow motion. But it worked. I had no attention left to spare for anything because, no matter what, I liked being alive.

I ended up sitting cross-legged some time later. My head was not really much clearer, but at least I felt able to go to sleep. Preferably right there and then. The great cold return from somewhere inside me and settled over the matter. I closed my eyes feeling the spiralling guilt and commitment freezing in their mad dance. I could breathe. I could walk. I would sleep.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	120. 119

One Hundred and Nineteen

_I walk through the corridors of the Chimera; the air itself seems to be grey. My boyfriend is in the room and I sit down on the couch opposite of him._

_"Can you come back now?" he asks._

_I spread my arms across the back of the couch. "After all I did?" _

_I wonder. I really wonder if I can. After all the promises I made, too. Could I leave him?_

_He gets up, straightening his uniform and assesses me with that stone hard look of his glowing eyes as he approaches. "I appreciate." His eyes flash._

_I lean my head back and close my eyes. That made one of us at least. I can feel him approaching through the vibrating of the floor. His lips feel soft against the side of my neck, a hand descends on my shoulder._

I was shaken softly.

"Mellanna," a low growling voice, "Mellanna, it is time to get up."

I opened my eyes, staring at Rukh. It was calming to see him without his disguise. Death looking at you had a way to clear your head. Where was my personal Lieutenant screaming at me? I looked around, but this was surely my quarter. Maybe it was high time to be worried?

It was not. The routines picked up as if nothing happened. Everybody tried very hard to act as if nothing happened, especially towards me. The inspection and help was suddenly going very fast. It seemed to be good manners to be gone before a new Moff was decided upon. But still you could feel the gears change around. Even _I_ could feel it and that said it all.

In the end I had to trust his Admiralship and his plans that Deerian would end up in the Moff's position. My part was done. I stared at the pad in my hands.

"Was it worth it?" Deerian asked.

I looked up into pale blue eyes that had seen too much. I tried to smile. "In the long run. I think." I looked back down. "And anyway," I murmured softly, "it's try everything once."

"Don't put up such a façade," he chided.

I checked my body language and found it in tatters. Crivens. "Sorry, sir." I pulled myself together and put reassured calmness on my canvas. "Is it better like that?"

He shook his head. "Not at all, but you are at least credible now."

I nodded. "That is all that matters, sir. I am sorry."

"Not yet," he replied, looking me up and down.

I managed not to fidget. Yes he was right, so what? I had a role to play and that I would do that no matter how unpleasant that was. And I would not let everything come crashing down around me. I was stronger than that. Had to be. And the other question I had to answer was also, what if I hadn't done it? No regrets. Well, I certainly would have regretted failing this. _We regret the things we didn't do more than those we did. _I would have to believe it. I would have to make it true. And if all else failed – I would just make sure it didn't.

"It would have been none the easier the other way, sir." I tried to smile. "Sometimes, it doesn't matter. You just do what is right and don't worry about coping."

"And who says what is right?"

"I do." I finally gave him the pad. "Because who else could I trust?"

He shook his head. "Incorrigible."

"And probably brainwashed," I added. "But that will not be your problem much longer seeing how the redirected grid overlays finally are synchronized with their reversed feedback."

"So your visit is coming to an end," he said taking the pad. "How – unexpected?"

"Not at all, I am surprised it took so long." I looked past him. "Almost as if there had been some agenda. But that is politics I know nothing about."

Deerian cast a doubtful glance at me, but I projected nothing but innocence. "I hate people getting tangled up in Imperial politics, but it's your life."

I was really proud because I didn't reply 'you wish', or 'I wish'. And it was way to late to _get_ entangled. I had all the pitfalls prearranged he day I put my foot onto the bridge of the _Chimera_. I didn't want to think what was waiting for me on my return. Thrawn kept me cleanly out of everything related to the Republic. That worried me, because why should he do that if his plans were not going against my ideas.

But returning couldn't be helped. We said our goodbyes and I managed not to tell Deerian, I'd see him at his inauguration. I liked the idea, but it was not my place to say things like that. Not to mention I might not get some time off to actually visit. The bulk of the flagship loomed ahead and I did not feel like a happy traveller coming home. I sighed.

"You did very well," Toris said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "The Grand Admiral will be pleased."

I hunched involuntarily. If killing people was what it took to please his Admiralship, I was way out of my depth._ Are not,_ the voice I had acquired some when after shooting Disra chimed in. Okay, so I made a decent killer provided the victim wasn't allowed to move. Go me. I pulled back under my iceberg. Somewhere in the back of my mind the touch of Toris hand still registered, but only as stats.

"There's nothing else I could have done," I said to him as much as to myself. "It will not bother me overdue." Actually, it did, a lot. And for some reasons it was Rukh's calm stare that helped most. When those merciless black orbs looked at me as if trying to find the first cracks. They didn't have to search very much. I was cracking all over. But I knew, kept looking and patching me up. I killed a man, so what? He would have killed me as easily. So what? He would have killed me with less thought. He had killed many others with less thought. So what? I had killed him and couldn't stop thinking about it.

I had begun to hold my hands in the Chiss gesture of contract at all times. With my fingers close to each other and straightened out there was no way I could hold a gun. The feeling that I was, was but an illusion. My rational thought could tell my irrational fears that they were just that: irrational fears. Nobody in his right mind would hand me a weapon. My palms faced my body projecting steady acceptance and rejection at the same time since they had no other gesture to refer to.

"If it does, remember there are people you can come to," Toris squeezed my shoulder lightly and left.

I stared at the grey bulk occupying the whole viewport. A look at my pad told me that my debriefing would be separately and after everybody else was done with it. I pressed my lips together. At least that gave me the time to shower and get into some decent jumpsuits. I made some tea, even though Rukh declined his cup, and curled up around mine. "Would you tell me a story?"

His black eyes pierced me and his alien features were unreadable as ever. He settled down on the floor before me. "What do you need a story for?"

"Because Khanathitera wants to cry."

Rows of sharp teeth glared at me. "She does. But this is not for now." His growl was deep and calming. "I will tell you how Khanathitera went to Moon."

I nodded, curling up closer around my cup. Killing Moon, that would be a motivating thing to hear.

"_After __Arhakhan was killed by the hand of Moon, Khanathitera mourned her father as it was her duty and privilege. She left her mother and did not tell her where she went because she feared the wrath of Moon would strike her mother. She went to his court and watched from the distance, seeing how people came and went. And she saw how easy it would be to come close to Moon and kill him._

_On the following day, she attached the knife to her calf and put on a peasant's clothes. Slipping past the guards Khanathitera pretended to be a maid, looking for work. Moon's new steward looked at her, but she wore lowly clothes and he did not accept her into the service of his master. Khanathitera wandered around the court and looked at Moon. He sat surrounded by his servants and beautiful girls combed his white hair._

_So she balled her hands into fists and left. But she returned the following day to enter his service again and get close enough to stab the knife through his heart. Again the steward did not accept her and she was left to stand and look at Moon. He was surrounded by his servants and beautiful women fed him delicate treats._

_Khanathitera balled her hands into fists and returned again the following day. She brought tetsuda cake with her, the kind her father had always loved. She offered it to the steward and he agreed to accept her into Moon's service as a kitchen help. When she crouched in her bow, Khanathitera touched the knife strapped to her leg and was glad. _

_She stood and Moon's eyes lay on her. He smiled and his hair ell into his face. Khanathitera averted her gaze, but her hand was on her heart where she felt the revenge for her people wait. And she smiled..._

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	121. 120

One Hundred and Twenty

I must have fallen asleep. I could not remember how Khanathitera slew Moon in the end. And my neck was stiff because I had just slumped over while sitting with my legs crossed on my bed. At least, I had emptied my tea before spilling it all over me.

Rukh was shaking me. "It is time for the debriefing. You can't let the Grand Admiral waiting."

Trying to shake off the sleep I rubbed my eyes. "Sorry."

"You were very tired."

"I didn't mean to fall asleep in the middle of the story."

"There will be another day to finish it." He paused. "If you get to your debriefing in time."

There might have been a trace of humour in that. I didn't have the time to contemplate it. This is how the world ends and there was no way I could get around it. Rubbing sleep from my eyes I followed Rukh down the corridors hoping for a little wonder. The iceberg started to melt. I was a killer and not happy about it. I was about to meet the man who was responsible, I needed an ice machine and fast.

The emptiness in the antechamber was easier to bear with Rukh at my side. For a fleeting moment the mad hope crossed my mind that he'd follow me, but of course, he didn't. He stayed in the room where my mind had him firmly placed. I went into hell on my own. We all do. Sooner or later.

The room was dimly lit, pictures and sculptures were scattered throughout it. Not in all available places, though. There was no Grand Admiral in sight which was worrying in its own right. I approached the double ring of displays. As far as I could tell, the pictures were all abstract, plunging lines, bold strokes but mostly subdued colours.

When I reached the displays, his Admiralship was still not to be found. I looked around, but apart from some sculptures that seemed to be made of incarnate colours, painted right onto the air there was nothing. I began to pace the room slowly, taking my time to look at the art. Especially the free-standing strokes of paint captured my attention.

"Yagai," his voice suddenly reached my ear. "On the topic of life and death. They take a very abstract stance on that."

I felt the urge to jump forward as the voice approached from behind, but the bold strokes of purple, red and brown trapped me efficiently.

"They think they cannot grasp it while alive?" I asked just to say something. I didn't dare turn around and see how much distance there was probably not between me and his Admiralship. I focussed on creating a relaxed body language instead.

"That, too." His voice seemed to recede and I heard his boots on the floor. Then he appeared on the other side of the statue. "They also think it is unhealthy to dwell on the topic too much. It is inevitable, the afterlife is unknown." He reached out but of course his hand went right through the projection. "It is about not leaving anything unfinished or undone."

I couldn't help but stare at the blue hand bathed in red and brown light, trying to take hold of something I couldn't even put a word on. The concept was easy enough to understand though. No regrets. "What does their art about killing look like?" I had to asked.

His eyes flashed shortly and with a sudden the displayed art flickered and new pieces appeared all over the room. The bold strokes seemed to splinter into cascades of little droplets. The red and brown hues before me changed into cold green and turquoise. Unconsciously I reached out to catch one. "It splinters the soul."

"Prepares it for reconstruction," Thrawn corrected. With a few gestures the chaotic specks flew into a neat pattern. He gestured again and the pattern changed, whole again and still different; like an oversized tangram game.

I couldn't say I liked the implications. "Mission accomplished," I just said watching the dance of the turquoise pieces. "I killed Disra."

With a sudden the droplets re-assumed their original chaotic positions. "I know. Toris report on you was quite favourable."

I thought back to the pain and almost death in the small chamber with only me and the data card. I thought back to Disra scowling at me with the last expression he'd ever wear. I looked at the alien standing on the other side of the splinters of a soul and felt weary. For the first time I thought that maybe, just maybe, this was not worth it; not worth it at all.

I closed my hand around one of the insubstantial specs. Some part of me felt the strong urge to kneel and feel the knife strapped to my calf. I closed my eyes. "It's too late to remark that I don't wish to be remade, isn't it?"

"By far." He sounded as if he was smiling.

I carried a knife in my heart. To pull it out and use it might just mean I'd bleed to death.

"It might help you to know that the worst part is over already."

My eyes snapped open, but he was no longer standing on the other side of the artwork. The light turned bright and instead of art the monitors suddenly showed tactical displays. My hand hung uselessly in the air before me, still holding a bit of nothing like a butterfly. I stared at the neatly polished finger nails.

"The mission on Byss is scheduled three to six months from now," he announced. "Contact with the Rebels will be restricted to anything concerning that. DV-384 is handling that."

I kept my eyes on my fingers and tried to ignore his steps echoing through the room. The way to hell is paved with good - things, people. I didn't want to talk with Dave about Luke or Han. I didn't want to talk with Thrawn about Dave. It would have been nice to be back with C'baoth - that allowed only for happy thoughts.

Thrawn entered my field of vision from the left. I tried not to think 'Gabriel'. "I expect your cooperation to go smoothly. Realise you are not just a decoration." He opened my fingers, put a small white box into my palm and closed the fingers around it again. "The Rebels might not like us, but they like the idea of a reborn Palpatine even less." There might have been the hint of a vicious smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

"These are the two things you will focus on from now." His eyes travelled from mine to my hand and back as he nodded.

"Yes, sir," I acknowledged with a curt nod of my own.

"Dismissed."

I turned to leave, not sure what to do with the little white thing in my hand. For a moment I just looked at it, but when Rukh joined me in the antechamber, I slipped it into a pocket. It would have to wait. There was another hell to go through now, I didn't think anything would be able to reach me after that. I wondered why Dante had only thought up seven hells. I on my own had a lot more than that already. Old French guy had been to soft on people, he surely had.

Fleetingly I wondered if Rukh would stay at my side for this, but when the door opened all thought fled. My iceberg started to crumble as I approached Dave, who didn't look as if anything was out of the ordinary. Calling up some tactical displays he gestured me to take a look. I took a deep breath. Rukh was gone. I wondered who Khanathitera had loved and if Moon had killed him.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	122. 121

One Hundred and Twenty One

"The first ships are moving into position," he said pointing into the star chart floating over the table.

I tried my best to concentrate on the blinking dots that represented the current and future positions of the ships. Byss hovered in the middle of the display like a disembodied bruise. I didn't think purple had been a good choice of colour to mark the target. No that there was much left to chose from. Green, blue and red dots were splattered all over the sector, blinking white if they were intended positions. It was quite a light show.

"Red and blue?" I wondered. So far there had only been the green blips of the Empire around. As far as I could tell, they were still positioned in all vital places. "Undercover or uncertain back-up?"

"Mandalorian and Rebel," Dave said pointing at the blue and red dots respectively.

I felt as if a bucket of cold water had been emptied over my head. I had to sit down, feeling the remains of my iceberg pooling at my feet. They had come. They actually had - or would be, but what did it matter? I had to hold my breath and very carefully put my hands on the desk before me, the palms pressed tightly against its surface. '_They like the idea of a reborn Palpatine even less'_, Thrawn's words echoed in my head.

And while I had been conveniently out of the way, he had been arranging things to his own pleasure. I stared ahead, realising only after a while, that I was gazing directly at Dave and that he was talking to me. It felt strange, as if he wasn't really there and neither was I and it didn't really matter anyway because he was just a clone and I was just me and the world was about to end. I stared at his moving lips, trying to find the sound that should reach my ears. I couldn't find it. The display hang between us like an impenetrable curtain, and the cold seeped back up my feet to enclose me.

Just a clone was not a thought that should be able to exist in my head. I looked into his eyes. He was still speaking. I wondered how long it would take him to realise I was adrift in my own head. Or maybe the moment just seemed so long to me. "I heard you were handling this well."

He stopped and looked me up and down, unreadable as ever. But I had killed a man and I was falling apart. He was good a maths, too. Who was I trying to fool?

"Negotiations have been commenced and preliminary procedure was decided upon." He might as well have read the directory - not that it had ever mattered to me. "Cooperation on this mission seems possible - especially with the Mandalorians in the mix. Their armed neutrality might help to keep the Rebels in check."

For a moment I closed my eyes. It was difficult to press your lips tightly shut and speak at the same time. Who would keep his Admiral in check, I wondered. "And?"

"The Mandalroians insist on speaking to you in person," I was not sure if he sounded annoyed. He just might have. "So do the Rebels, truth be told."

I stared at my hands. They don't trust him, I thought. They know his Admiralship will con them out of everything. Better speak to somebody who has nothing left to lose - or win. Seeing who kept conning me out of everything. I smiled thinly.

"Then I will talk to them." I looked up.

Dave regarded me with guarded eyes, as if something he saw worried him. So what? I had killed a man and I was falling apart. But the ice returned and my spine was as straight as my smile was cold.

"But first, I will need to clear some authorities with Thrawn." My eyes went back to the display. "How many more ships will be necessary for the blockade of the whole planet?"

If he was thrown by my sudden change to topic, Dave didn't show. He was too much of a soldier. I encased another small flame in ice. Soldiers died in wars. People died in wars. This was war. And the blips in the display danced to an inaudible tune. The data dump from Sev was due within the month. Depending on that the final strategies would be built. More talk with uneasy allies would be due. I didn't drum my fingers as Dave walked me through the mission as it was now. Too much would still change to memorise any of this.

"I want Master Skywalker for this," I said back over my shoulder just as I was leaving. "Without him we might just as well jettison ourselves over Byss." I didn't wait for an answer.

Rukh followed me back to my quarter. Maybe his presence at my back shouldn't have reassured me so much. But of all the people I knew, he was the only one I had actually done something for. Though I was not sure how much he appreciated it. I hoped talks with outsiders would be soon so I could finally offer him to leave.

"Tell me, please," I asked him before he could fade into the antechamber, "did Khanathitera ever love?"

Rukh showed his teeth. I was not sure if he was imitating a human smile or if it was a genuinely Noghri expression for something. "She married for love and had two daughters."

I nodded. "Thank you."

I don't know how long I just stood in the emptiness of my quarter; the hum of the drives resonating through the soles of my boots and the almost inaudible buzz of the ventilation echoing in my ears. I felt like a Giger painting, only less appealing. When I sat down to search for pictures of trees in the system, the small box in my pocket poked me. Oh, I had almost forgotten about that.

I put the little item on the desk before me and stared at it. Presents, huh? I didn't want to open it, really. Whatever was inside, it was something I was supposed to concentrate on. But his Admiralship had proved to be very disagreeable with things he wanted me to do lately. I crossed my arms on the desk and laid my chin on them. How long would I get away with not opening it?

But I had to wrangle concessions out of the Grand Admiral and soon. I needed Luke and I wanted Jaing and Jusik. They didn't trust Thrawn. They might trust me. But I would surely warn them about Thrawn. Whatever that meant. This meant that no matter what, I had to open that stupid box. So be it.

Picking it up, I leaned back on my chair. All I had to do was pull at the lid for it to hinge backwards. I didn't do the same. I might have. Three tiny studs glared at me from a background as white as the whole box. Two of them were of a blue I would have recognised anywhere. The third made me bite my lip. It didn't help. The third made me cry; angry at myself and shaking with the attempts to control myself.

I blinked repeatedly, waiting for the world to clear up again. Breathe in, breathe out, don't think. But when I touched the red stud my mind did as it pleased. It had always been red. From the day I had the second earring shot through my left lobe, I had always worn a red stud in it. Of course for geeky, fangirly reasons, though Stephen would not mean anything to most people. I swallowed hard and picked the earring up.

It didn't matter what he thought those colours were for. It really didn't. And I would not - repeat not - ever wonder how he knew. The earring slipped easily into the hole and as I closed the fastening a part of me wandered back to my bookshelf to pick up 'The First Adventure' again. This was not a fair move of his Admiralship. Not one bit.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	123. 122

One Hundred and Twenty

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!_

It was indefinitely soothing to be shouted awake like this. It spoke of normalcy and routine. It spoke of things I could handle. So I put the studs into the holes in my earlobes again. I would not care what his Admiration thought. I would not even think of it. Or so I hoped.

Rukh escorted me to the officers' mess and it was almost as if nothing ever happened. I had konot tea and grey globs because Seros would have my head if I didn't. I trained with Arn and had lessons with Seros. Shooting exercises and language lessons with Thrawn. Life was back to normal and I watched myself walking through it as if it was a paper diorama. I did my homework and curled up on my bunk trying not to think of the feeling of a blaster in my hands.

I wished, Arn would cut the blaster practice. I really did. Each time I picked up the weapon I felt I was about to kill somebody. It was not a nice feeling.

"It will pass," Dave said, chivvying me through a routine exercise. I got my fingers all tangled up in the blaster parts and by the time I am finally finished, he had had the time to make copious notes of all my shortcomings. He listed them minutely and I had to repeat the whole exercise taking care to apply the suggestions. That took even longer. Not that it mattered, there was more than enough time before my next lessons awaited me.

Dave didn't understand what bothered me so much about killing Disra. It was an unpleasant realisation, that Dave should not understand something, but I could hardly blame him. I kept telling myself over and over. He had been bred and raised to kill. I had not. I did not understand him there and neither could he understand me. I flinched inside, but was buried so firmly under my crust of ice that nobody noticed.

I managed to catch Lyk's jaw with my elbow and it didn't matter that I remembered only little after that. The wolf eyes burnt into my mind. I did not look up defeated, my face pressed firmly into the floor. Greras set my nose straight again without as much as short comment. I liked Lyk. My nose looked different than before, I liked to think it was not pointing that much upwards any more. I had to train with Fi. Breaking my nose was obviously not _comme il faut_. I didn't mind. I grinned at Lyk when I saw him and he looked back, his glance saying he definitely considered me crazy.

Thrawn never mentioned the earrings again. I kept wearing them, fingering the red stud every now and then. It left like my past come home. It felt inexplicable. I was like Stephen, burying emptiness under a cover of body language. Only that I was sure that somewhere down there the ability to feel was actually there.

"Kres'ten'tarthi," I identified with ease. "Commanding your household phalanx on Nirauan." It was not often that Thrawn made things so easy for me. I decided to appreciate and rattled off the most important things I was supposed to know about Stent adding some of the more obscure information. It earned me flashing eyes and a curt nod. Maybe I should have decoded that in both systems of body language but I didn't feel like it.

"Can I see Parck's pattern again?" I asked instead. Parck was complicated. He was steward of the Empire of the Hand while Thrawn was gone, that indicated a lot of black and some red. But he was not a member of the Mitth House and an outsider on top of that. The pattern on the display changed. For a while I just looked at it trying to find the patterns and indicators. I just hoped I never had to meet an outsider in a high position on Csilla, those patterns gave me headaches. But, if things went correctly, I would always be able to return the favour with a headache from my pattern.

"They look real." I lowered my blaster.

"As well they should," Arn replied, pulling my arm up again. "You don't think you will shoot at holograms in the end, do you?"

I lowered my gaze, trying to concentrate on the tips of my feet. The targets had faces now, they looked like real people, they wore uniforms. Imperial uniforms as the Emperor would likely have his people wear. They looked at me with Dave's face sometimes. And I had to shoot them. A splintered soul can be reshaped. I made sure none of the turquoise bits escaped and froze them into my iceberg.

"Are you sure he has original clones left?" I wanted to know and shot one of the Daves between the eyes. It amazed me that my aim was so accurate.

"Nothing can be certain where the Emperor is involved," Arn replied. "And his clones might be even more off kilter. We must expect the unexpected."

I shot some more Daves and other Imperial grunts. By now, only a few of them bled to death. I wished, I hadn't spent so much time in the shooting range. I wished I was not good with a blaster. I wished, I could go back to training with a lightsaber. But Arn refused. As a weapon, the lightsaber was completely useless to me.

The combat training with sticks had also decreased. Close combat was taught by Dave and his squad. I wished I was better with that. My talents there were not noticeable by anybody. I wondered why they put up with it. Probably his Admiralship was adamant about it. I could not fathom why. But that was just Thrawn for you.

"Jaing Skirata requested a meeting with you in a neutral location," Thrawn said. He had his hands clasped behind him and sported human body language for a change. He was being a Grand Admiral now, this was serious business.

"What was my answer?"

His eyes flashed. I might just have been extremely amusing. My lips quirked and I could not help a lopsided grin. This life was not mine an we both knew it. The displays turned on and showed a star chart; green for Imperial space, red for Republic. It was strange how the colour code was the same wherever one went.

A small blue dot sprang into focus. "Helska," Thrawn said. "A very small and unimportant planet, sure to be crawling with lowlives and smugglers. It also has no legit government and is neutral in that nobody is interested in what is going on on the planet."

I flipped through the charts and stats. "Looks like a lovely place to meet," I agree. "And my agenda?"

He smiled thinly. "There is none. The Mandalorians work with us on the Byss mission or they stay at home. We have no space for reckless heroics that can shatter the plan. You will make sure they keep in line, and I will make sure they get away as unscathed as Palpatine lets them."

I stared at him. I really did and for quite a while, too. "Thank you."

He just turned his palms towards me. I smiled, mirrored the movement and then, because I felt like it, raised my underarms until the hands were parallel to the ground. I slowly closed my right into a fist and placed it on my heart. Domou arigtou gozaimashite. "I take it I will take Rukh along?"

"That and some special equipment. We need to mesh our communication systems." I waited for the inevitable catch to come. "I am sure you can convince them, that adapting to our system is the logical thing to do."

I nodded my agreement. Nothing was for free. But I counted on the Mandos to find their way around any kind of net Thrawn was trying to catch them in. I did not believe he'd accept terms like the ones he just proposed without any second thoughts; or third or even fourth thoughts. It was his Admiralship's style to play hidden manoeuvres and though I might not know what he was aiming at, a bunch of Skiratas with Jedi help should find out in no time.

"You will know about the time in advance," Thrawn added. "As usual."

I tried not to display a sarcastic smile at that. Getting an advance warning was all very nice, but not really helping any if it came but an hour before departure. "You may play your games all you like, sir."

He tilted his head in reproval at my form of address. "This is not a game, Mellanna."

I put up a smug face and slipped between him and the displays, changing them back to the Cheunh lessons. "_A'rare_."

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	124. 123

One Hundred and Twenty-Three

Whatever anybody had claimed to want from me, there seemed to be no hurry. After generally informing me that there were people who would like to meet with me the subject was dropped. For days nobody said another word about it and my frustration rose. Those who had to suffer from that most were the targets in the shooting range. Probably because they were the one thing I had a chance to actually hurt.

"Everything in its own time," Thrawn told me in Cheunh. I managed to express polite disagreement and impatience in one set of body language. In return I got appreciation but no compliance. I was proud to decipher if not happy to receive it. "Though you might be happy to heart hat your first journey is scheduled two days from now."

I indicated interest without making it too pressing. Being informed in advance was not something that happened to me. "Will I need to prepare in a special way?" I asked instead.

"Not that I can think of," he replied. "You will only drop in on Kyp for a short visit. See how he is doing and keeping up the relationship."

I nodded. For once, I actually approved of a plan. It would be nice to just go visiting what I counted as a friend. I could not be sure Kyp saw it the same way. I really hoped he was happy where he was.

"He is," Zeth assured me. He looked tired but satisfied. Whatever job they had put him on to, he liked it. "The private schooling is doing him good and Freisa is sparsely populated, so there are not too many people around thinking loudly."

I approved of that as well. And when I told Zeth that I would be visiting soon, he seemed to approve too. "He doesn't know many people, so any familiar face will be appreciated. And he is not holding a grudge against you."

"Good to hear," I replied. Not that it would help much if he held a grudge against the Empire, which nobody could hold against him. "How well is he healing?"

"Better than expected, but not so fast as to be useful in the near future."

So Zeth was also reading my mind now. I shrugged. "That was to be expected." But maybe it didn't have to be a big contribution he'd have to make. And if he wanted to feel useful, who was I to keep him? Especially when I hoped to have Luke around as well.

"The New Republic is still overly cautious in their dealings," Dave said flatly.

"I wouldn't trust the Empire if I was them," I said without thinking. Dave gave me a strange look, saying that we were worlds apart.

"That might well be, but it poses the problem of getting somebody they would trust into shape as a commanding officer." He looked me up and down. "How likely is that?"

"Not at all," I had to agree. "I am just not made to be a commanding officer."

"Yet." An unpleasant premonition hit me but not for long. Because the next thing I knew was getting lessons in leading a battle, using different comm channels, ordering people around and interpreting little blips on screen. Do I have to say I kept losing spectacularly?

"Can't we interpose some capable commanders between me and the actual soldiers?" I wanted to know. "That would save a lot of lives."

They could not. Instead I got a rather disappointed look from his Admiralship and an introduction to Gasha. It was a game of strategy similar to chess only that you had more layers and though all figures looked basically the same, moving them over each other on different layers changed their abilities. For example I'd move a pawn onto a field above another of my pawns and suddenly the one moving away next could move like a Queen.

There were five layers. In the beginner's version, Masters played the Ruling House Gasha, Anof'foronekigasha, which had as many layers as there were ruling houses. When I had already lost each time I tried to play three dimensional chess. Since the abilities of the pawns changed depending on how many and which were in what layer and if the other chips belonged to you, there was an overabundance of possibilities how the figures could move.

I hated it immediately.

I really could think of nicer ways to pass my time than sitting in his Admiralship's rooms, poring over an assembly of oddly shaped, weirdly coloured game chips with his Admiralship staring. And commenting. And usually explaining what I had done wrong and with which move/combination I had mixed up my move. Again.

I call it very good selfcontrol that the glass of water stayed on the table the whole time and did not end up upended over his Admiralship. Did I already mention that I am averse to parlour games of all kinds? This surely did nothing to improve my attitude. I moved one of my yellow bits between an burgundy one of Thrawn and a purple one of mine.

Yes, we had pawns of the same colours. The only way to tell apart who actually owned a pawn was to look at them from the top where they had a kind of watermark. Having to get up to look at the field from above was proving you to be a blithering idiot. Not that I cared. It was good exercises for my leg muscles. I had to get up each and every turn.

At least Thrawn took the time to explain all the possible moves of the single pawns to me. I would have been happier had I been able to remember them. Then he simply swiped my last purple pawn off the field. I had lost. Again. No wonder.

I started to prepare the board again; one colour on each layer, five pieces of each colour for each player. Did I mention the board was round? It looked a bit like a spider web with the number of fields decreasing towards the middle. No, I really did not like this game.

"It is not a game," Thrawn chided quietly. "It is an attitude."

And one I would never ever get. I stared at the pawns on the board and wished, very desperately, to be somewhere else. That happened a lot, actually. I wished to be somewhere else when with Thrawn. I wished to be somewhere else when with Dave. I wished to be somewhere else when Seros criticised my bearings again. I wished to be somewhere else when I shot Dave doubles dead with Arn. Somewhere else seemed to be an altogether too alluring place.

Somewhere in space en route to Freisa I actually felt a lot better. The world seemed less crowded with only Rukh around. I was grateful that he didn't have some gruelling tasks for me to do while travelling. Sitting in the cockpit I watched the patterns of hyperspace and tried not to think.

"Why do all species have stories about their stars?" I wondered aloud.

"Because they are sometimes the only unchanging constant in their lives." I hadn't realised Rukh was with me.

I turned to face him. "But that didn't change and still modern peoples do not make new stories about new stars."

"They cannot see the faces of the stars any more," he said as if that explained everything.

I looked out again thinking that it probably did. The only times I had made up stories about stars was to explain the inexplicable, and not with science. I closed my eyes. Science explained nothing. I considered asking Rukh for another story, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to do it. He was supposed to be my bodyguard, not my nanny. I sighed. "I grew up in a place that didn't tell stories about the stars any more."

"I know." It was a reprimand. Fortunately, it was directed more against the society that let me grow up like that than me personally.

I lay back, trying to remember the stories I had once know about Mars, Jupiter and Pluto, but I came up mostly dry. It seemed so far away and so long ago, it seemed so very far. I didn't want to think about it.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	125. 124

One Hundred and Twenty Four

I loved Freisa. Okay, I would have loved any lump of rock with breathable atmosphere and a minimum of vegetation, but Freisa was wonderful. The air smelled of the ocean wherever you went, simply because there was more ocean than land around. I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes, listening to the shrill song of the native gull–equivalent.

The sunlight seeped dimly though thick clouds and a layer of mist. The breakers supplied a continuous roar in the background and the wind tugged at the short strands of my hair. I instantly envied Kyp for being allowed to live here. He did not seem to be that enthusiastic, though.

"It's a pretty big cage," he agreed. "But it's not as if I really could go anywhere."

"Where would you want to go?" I asked.

He looked at me but didn't answer. Maybe he didn't have one. I surely had no idea where he could go, provided he was allowed to leave here.

"Simply a place not run by Imperials?" I probed gently.

Kyp still didn't answer. Maybe he considered the fact that a place in the New Republic would bring problems should he want to see his brother. Just because he was out of the mines, didn't man his life was easy now. Or ever would be.

"You feel strange," he finally said.

I shrugged. "I'm not from here."

His eyes suddenly focused on me. If it was possible to feel being scrutinized with the Force, then I did. Kyp raised a hand and tried to take hold of something invisible around me. It looked creepy and I did not wonder why some people might develop a big dislike against Jedi. Who wanted somebody around who could see things you couldn't?

But I had gotten used to that long ago. Not only C'aboth did it causally, my thoughts seemed to be no secret to his Admiralship, Arn considered me pretty see through and even Dave had figured me out. That left only me with a less than desirable understanding of myself.

"Is that the reason you know the future, even though you're not a Jedi?" he wanted to know.

"A possible future," I corrected him. "Some of it is very unlikely to happen now, seeing how I did change some things."

"For the better?" He squinted a little, as if trying to see better.

"I should hope so." What else could I say, really. "For one you did not unintentionally kill your brother. That has to be worth something."

Kyp stared at me intently. But I was not lying so there was nothing to detect. If he was actually looking for signs of a lie. "I would never have done that," he finally objected. "I would have died in the mines."

"Nope. Han Solo would have rescued you some day," I explained. "And after some incidents and others, you would have run from the Jedi Academy to get revenge on the Imperials and exploded the sun around which Carida revolves, unfortunately with Zeth still on Carida. If it makes things easier, you might have been pretty much possessed by a Sith Lord."

He stared at me some more. "And now that this doesn't happen, who will that Sith Lord possess?"

"I hope nobody." I shrugged. "I told Luke about him and hope he'll either get rid of him or put up the Academy in another place."

"You have it all planned out, don't you?" It was an accusation.

"Yes, and if everybody adheres to my plan, we might get through this mess with a minimum of casualties." I crossed my arms before me protectively. "It's not as if anybody listened to me anyway."

"They will." He was dead serious.

"Let's hope so." I decided to move on to more pleasant topics. "So, how do you like going to school again?"

As it turned out, he had private tutors and did not go to school at all. He did not have to get up as early as before and homework seemed to be a piece of cake compared to the work in the mines. For a teenager in school, he was sure very happy. I told him about the upcoming mission to Byss and though he listened with interest he did not seem interested in taking part in it. That was one thing less I had to think about.

He was also a bit more open about being Force sensitive. Being able to move around things only thinking about it and feeling the strange eddies around me surely helped. He had done some research about the old Jedi Order which came up mostly dry. So I spent the better time of my visit explaining Jedi stuff to him, having warned him beforehand that he got my very personally biased account of everything.

"Will you tell Skywalker where to find me?" he asked at the end.

"Of course," I replied. "And I am sure Thrawn knows it. I don't think Skywalker will come and break you out, though. Not before the Byss mission is through anyway."

"I don't want to be broken out," Kyp said. "I want to see Zeth again, too."

"Which leads right back to everybody adhering to my plan." I winked.

"Maybe you should send out a memo," he suggested.

"If they let me," I replied wistfully.

Then Rukh came to drag me away. "It is time to leave or we will be late."

"Late for what?" I wanted to know. I was used to being pushed around but having it done in front of Kyp rubbed me the wrong way. I was still enough of my old self to want to make a good impression on the youngster.

"Helska."

At first I only heard 'hell' and was about to wonder. I was already there anyway, so why bother. But Helska, now that was different. "Already?" I asked him.

The Noghri nodded shortly.

I turned to Kyp, trying not to be frantic. "Try to reach Master Skywalker and tell him about the meeting." I glanced at Rukh. "Use the Force if you can, just - try to tell him, yes?"

Kyp looked from me to Rukh, his eyes full of questions. None of which i could answer. I tried to feel very concise and everything that would help convey my position and plans. If that didn't help, I had at least tired.

Finally Kyp nodded.

"You're a good kid," I smiled. "Don't let anybody tell you differently."

"You too."

It was a strange answer, but before I had the time tom contemplate, Rukh had dragged me away. So Helska it was. I wondered how long the flight would take. And how long Jaing could keep me er any pretence. As soon as the Liberty had taken of and entered hyperspace, I curled up on my bunk and tried to sort through my frozen bits and shape them into something bearable. After all, being pushed around was just another small annoyance on the top of all the other offences.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	126. 125

One Hundred and Twenty Five

When I woke up all I could hear was the soft hum of the hyperdrives. I blinked into the darkness a few times, trying to think. But my thoughts were sluggish, like glaciers and erratic boulders kept stopping and distracting me. After a while I gave up and decided to get up.

I made breakfast for two that consisted of ration packs you could heat and they turned into brown globs. The change of colour did not much for the taste. I sat, staring ahead and eating alone. Rukh had not been in the cockpit and I didn't fell like searching the ship for him. I hoped Kyp managed to contact Luke somehow. I felt so weary.

Not that it helped any. At some point Rukh appeared, ignored the bowl of blob (for which nobody could blame him) and started the tasks that had been scheduled for me. Mostly it consisted of vocabulary and body language practice. I got on with it, hoping something would stick.

"_H__erek'eth, bein'ataref'ur'eremo," _I told Rukh. He didn't comment, probably because his Cheunh was even more non-existent than mine and just kept on asking for the other words. No I didn't have to like it, and he didn't have to help me feel any better.

"Say," I reminded myself of asking him, "do you want to come back after this? Because you don't have to."

There was a short pause in the string of questions, but again no comment. Maybe the ship was bugged? So what? Thrawn knew everything anyway. And I would not cower and try secrecy about something as right and straightforward as setting Rukh free. I felt my anger melt some of my ice and turned my mind back to the vocabulary at once. Equilibrium was not something I could easily attain lately.

Each time it seemed a little more difficult to go back to calm and neutral. I closed my eyes. "_Mor'an'er,_" I told myself. It was not true strictly speaking, but I had as yet to find a better catch phrase in Cheunh for holding on. And in one day a lot of things could happen. I really hoped they would.

"Actually it is only two more hours," Rukh told me. So there had been some education in Cheunh for him. But since everybody seemed perfectly capable to read my mind anyway, why should I care? Caring only melted the ice and that meant I stopped working.

I put a smile on my face. "Good to know. You want a bite before we get off?" He shook his head and I started cleaning away the mess that was supposed to be breakfast while answering the vocabulary questions Rukh asked. Two more hours. I hoped Jaing would be there. I hoped, I hoped - I didn't really know what I hoped for. Possibly the grounding effect Jaing had on me; making things be reality again, going practical on my problems.

Simply seeing the grey armour and his no-nonsense posture helped a lot. I actually smiled and was a little bit happy and ice be blasted. I held out my arm which he took at the elbow. Still I had enough control over myself not to try a bear hug in public.

"I am so glad to see you," I said instead and did my best to make my hold of his arm felt through the armour.

The reply was a short nod.

I couldn't help grinning. This was so much easier. I followed him through the hangar and held my eyes open for Mird. "I am allergic to strill slobber, I fear."

No sign that he heard me. I grinned happily. I stopped grinning when I was showed into a small room.

Jaing gestured to a stack of datacards. "You might want to read up on our intel before we start."

I stared and nodded. Looking through that would take quite a while. I had to grin again. "I will be meticulous about it, sir. I am afraid it might take some time."

He nodded curtly and vanished.

I sat down and started to browse through the indexes trying to find a good place to start. After a while I looked to find Rukh standing silently behind me. A short glance through the room showed that he didn't really have a place to stay here. "Bugger," I sighed.

"It is not a problem," he assured me. Then he left.

After a while I couldn't help but poke my head out. There he was, standing in front of my door like a real bodyguard. Impressive. I returned to the files. Not that there was much of utmost importance. We were buying time for - something I didn't dare even think. But there was hope.

After a while my eyes became dry. I had to blink repeatedly and close them every now and then. The darkness behind my lids held no terror. I put my head on my folded arms and fell asleep.

_Everything is vague and grey except for a vortex of golden stars. They shimmer as they fall into their own abyss, the brilliant inversion of a black hole. I watch the view with fascination, nothing but a huge blast door separating me from doom._

_"We must stop it," my sister says. She is dressed in grey space jumpsuits just as I am. And she is right. We have to stop the end of the world, but we cannot do it on our won. I take her wrist._

_"We have to wait for them," I say. The man with the white beard and the - other one. I can see them clearly even if they have no names or faces. "They will join us, I know it." And I do, even if I have no idea why. So we take a step back from the brink of beautiful destruction. I turn my head to look for the two men._

_The eyes are of black. Shining, unadulterated black. _

"Wake up."

The voice was silky, rumbling, feline and I realised I was staring at Rukh. I blinked at him.

"Time to go. There is a meeting now."

I nodded and followed him. And then I wondered why he should know where to go when there were no Mandos around. What did he know that I didn't and what did the Mandos know that I didn't and how did those things play together into trust the Noghri? I rubbed my forehead.

We entered a small room. The orange Mando was there again and I was pretty certain it was that guy who looked like my uncle. I inclined my head to him and looked at the other two Mandos already seated in the room. One wore a grey darker than Jaing's with dark blue applications and - something on his helmet. The other seemed to be the slim green armoured Mando I had seen before. I nodded at them and got a nod from the green one and a tell tale half-nod from the dark grey one. Clone. Another one.

I sat down on the last free chair, closed my eyes for a moment and tried to smile. "The Grand Admiral's plans?" I looked at them in turn. "You might have found the datacards on board of the _Liberty_."

"Indeed," Jaing replied. "Interesting, but not very detailed."

When I had taken such care to copy everything from my talks with Dave. It was the most detailed I had. "Thrawn wants to mesh the communications systems," I offered. "Though I think it is not the only thing he wants."

"No problem," the dark grey Mando said. I had never heard such a cold and hard edge on a clone's vice before. Those vocoders didn't do an awful lot of good with me. I glanced at him.

Jaing nodded. "That's solved then."

"They are also planning to put me in charge of the operation, which will probably doom it to fail." I tried hard not to blush. "I suggest you listen to nothing I say."

"Who gave you the idea we might at all?" The dark grey one again. "You can't order any of us around."

"Great!" I grinned broadly. "I am very relieved to hear that."

Glances were exchanged over my head and probably comments, too, that I could not hear since I had no helmet to share the frequency.

"Let's see what she can do," the grey one suggested and I could feel the sniggering behind the helmets. But we were trying to buy time and all was fair.

"Try to be easy on her, _vod_," Jaing said. He got up and everybody followed suit. I found myself next to the grey one.

"Ready to play?" he asked.

"Whenever you are, sir." He laughed at that. "_Ver'alor, naas'ash_*."

I nodded. "I only made it to private by chance. I am sorry."

"Not yet." He let his hand drop on my shoulder.

"Kom'rk!" Jaing called after us warningly, but it was too late.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

* * *

*Lieutenant, nothing else.


	127. 126

One Hundred and Twenty Six

I couldn't believe they actually armoured me up. It was even more difficult to believe I did not make clanking noises as I went through the corridors of their ship. I did feel like making clanking noises as I walked. If I had had a helmet, I might have made some. But those helmets - they are not for the weak of stomach.

Apart from the incredibly bouncy excitement about getting my hands on a real and working Mandalorian helmet things went pretty bad. I have no idea how long Mandos train to simply wear those buckets. When you put them on, the world practically winks out. There is this t-shaped hole through which you can theoretically see, but every person with a decent costume can probably tell you how well that works. Not.

Then the lights came on. Like fireworks going off right under your nose. And if you blink they change. And if you turn your head they change. And if you clear your throat they change. And if you are not dizzy by then, you are probably cut out to be a Mandalorian. I was by then right back out of the helmet, trying to keep my stomach down.

There was a pat on my shoulder which was as sympathetic as it was condescending. I would have glared at Kom'rk, but what use would that have been? So I took deep regular breaths instead and cursed inside my head. Then I get up and faced him. Yes, I am just me and he is him. I know, he knows, let him know I know.

"What now?" I wanted to know. After all he's the impossibly sharp whiz kid around here.

He measured me. I knew simply by the way he didn't move for a moment. And I wondered what he saw and I wanted to present myself in a better way. But I was no better and what would have been the use? I let my shoulders sag and shook my head to make the images go away. "A separate comm unit with basic visual for overlay in case of need?"

He tilted his head in the way that will always break my heart. I pressed my lips together and something inside me went all drippy. "Better than nothing, utree'ka."

I resisted the urge to rib him and straightened instead. "Bring it on then, mir'sheb." This earned me another look but I kept a straight face. If he wanted to trade insults I was game. Not that I knew many. I slumped again. Nulls, you just couldn't win.

In the end I was equipped with a comm unit that hugged my head tightly and a small device to show me plans and schematics that sat on my forehead like a pit lamp. I sure felt ridiculous. "Do I look as stupid as I feel?" I asked Kom'rk.

"More so," he nodded solemnly.

"Enough to make the enemy die laughing?" I enquired.

"If you cartwheel."

I nodded seriously. I could do that. I checked on the comm and flipped the vibro knife out of the knuckle plate. This was so much more than cool. It was almost like being a mini Wolverine. The exercise was simply getting everybody from a pretended boarding of the ship to their separate tasks and then together again on the bridge. The display came to life for a second, showing all my blips lined up neatly behind me.

"Oya," I sighed. This was not going to be fun.

And it was not. Keeping an eye on the Mando teams was worse than herding cats. I couldn't remember which target area was which and who was sent to do what. Ants on extasy came to mind as I watched the points of light move across my charts.

Kom'rk stayed at my side about as helpful as a moving rock. He watched, or pretended to, you could never be quite sure with those helmets. He never said a word though and let me send poor Mandos in all silly directions I thought of. If I had hoped he'd stoop to some teaching I had been very wrong. When I had just gotten used to being everybody's pet.

"Are you going to do something or just follow me around?" I finally asked.

"I am doing something," was his reply. He might just have specified what it was that he was doing. He was a tad too intimidating to qualify for the 'follow like a sick puppy' category.

"And you are aware that this would all be going a lot better with some advice from you?"

"Very much so."

"You are not helping," I got out slowly instead of screaming at him and trying to hit him over the head with his own helmet.

"That's not my job."

"Oh? what is your job then?"

"Judging your performance."

Oh this was just too great. I fought the urge to hit him with something again. "Well, if you are not going to help me, I might just as well go and have a cup of tea for all the frigging good this will do me."

"Canteen is that way," he pointed.

A lump of memory dropped from my melting iceberg inside. I caught it just in time before it fell and closed my eyes. Kom'rk had eidetic memory, he would remember everything I did now as if it just happened. Might as well deliver a good show. I pressed my lips together in what makes almost a smile. Then the cold curtain of the _lor'kina_ dropped around me and I was calm.

I looked up at him and nodded. Then I checked on the bridge team which is getting along nicely now that I had made up my mind as to which direction the bridge lies. Come to think about it, they were just entering but the crew had deserted it and relayed all important operations to the engine room.

"Open the hatches of the escape pods," I told them. I could feel his question all the way through the ship. "I don't want them popped, just open the hatches."

They should be stuck like that. That was all I needed. I checked on all other teams and got a tally of ten minutes. That was more than I would ever need. I didn't look at Kom'rk to see if he watched me. Most likely he was guessing my next steps anyway. Nobody had said I couldn't cheat.

"Depressurise the ship," I ordered the bridge team.

"But-"

"Do it." I wanted to cut the connection but there was one last thing. "Make sure the crew can get to the escape pods should they want to."

"Yes, Morrsion." He cut the connection.

It felt strange to be called by a surname not mine, not even after all this time. Come to think of it, it was not _that_ much time. I looked at Kom'rk. "Seeing how I have no helmet and am dead now, I leave the rest to you." I turned on my heels and headed off into the direction of the canteen thinking intensely of tea. Tea made everything better. And I did not dare to look back and see what he did.

"Shouldn't you be on an exercise?" the Mando handing me a cup of tea asked.

"No, I am dead," I told him and took the tea before he decided that dead people didn't need it. "And now I will watch how it is done and hopefully learn something from it."

He gave me a strange look. "I am sure Kom'rk does not approve."

"He can tell me so himself," I almost snapped. "Might be the prelude to the first constructive thing he does." It was okay if he considered all this a great waste of time - it was. But I was at least trying to -

"I do not approve." A hand descended heavily on my shoulder.

I turned around, both of my hands curled carefully around the cup so I would not accidentally empty it over the Null ARC before I had found my _lor'kina_ calm again.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	128. 127

One Hundred And Twenty Seven

"I told you I was bad with people." I was tempted to throw my hands up in exasperation.

Jaing just stared at me, probably in disbelief.

"And anyway those helmets are waterproof." So the worst that had actually happened was that I hadn't gotten to drink tea. And since then hadn't managed to get my hands on any more of it. Maybe it was considered a weapon within my vicinity now. If that was the case I would have been grateful for a chance to hurt myself.

"It is the first time I have seen somebody do something that stupid," Jaing almost sighed. "You don't attack us, not even with tea."

Especially not with tea, I wanted to object, seeing how there was a sudden lack of it. But I thought better of it and decided to at least try and be serious. "Because I believe you're fundamentally good," I replied. "I don't think you'd go ballistic over something like that. I don't think you'd hurt me just because you can. Go ahead, prove me wrong." _And while you're at it give me some tea._ I didn't say that. Maybe I should have.

"The problem is that you are all right and all wrong, too." Words not making sense in the three-dimensional world. It was nice to see it happened to others as well.

I folded my arms before me. "I know and I am sorry. It's just - he drives me up the wall. It's okay if he thinks this is a waste of time. And he can dislike it all he wants, but instead of driving me crazy, why not let him do something useful. Or send him to visit his wife and kids. Anything."

Jaing threw me one of those looks that most likely meant I was close to a dead woman walking.

"I will apologise," I told him. "I can grovel. _Ni ceta_."

Jaing looked as if he was fighting the urge to throttle me. "Why does Thrawn trust you with this again?" he finally asked.

I folded my hands on the table. "Because he's standing behind me pulling the strings," I had too admit. "And because as long as he does and I act as he wants me to, and hopefully also think the way he wants me to, everything will work out fine for him." I smiled brightly.

"And do you?"

The smile faded. "I don't know. I assume. I never get feedback. I keep assuming that he knows what I will be doing so I don't have to - oh." I looked at him. "I see my mistake and will work on it."

"You better," he growled. "Believing Kom'rk to be a fundamentally good person will amuse him only so long."

"I don't think I can stop," I grinned. "Nothing you can do can convince me otherwise."

"You have no idea what we can do," he warned softly.

"I agree," I let my eyes wander to those grey gloves of his, "but I can imagine at least some."

"Then think of that the next time somebody hands you some tea," he advised.

"Though I don't think anybody will," I sighed. I really had to get a grip on myself. Introspection showed that this would be difficult indeed.

"Ready to go at it again with some seriousness?" Jaing wanted to know.

I nodded. "I am willing to do anything that will keep me grounded here for any length of time."

"You won't like it," he warned.

"When did I ever?" But I had to try and stay for as long as I could. If Kyp had gotten word to Luke this was the best chance I'd ever get.

But he was right, I didn't like it. They kept me running around on the ship with that blasted thing attached to my head trying to see three ways at once. I kept running into things that were really there like bulkheads a lot. Kom'rk was back teaching me the most important lesson of war: losing people.

I proved to be horribly bad at it. I always tried to save them and, do I have to mention?, always failed. It was Kobayashi-Maru all over, only with Mandos. That didn't improve it any. It might have made things worse, because they were very good at realising when the end of their personal end of the line and reacted annoyed if you tried to save them instead of completing the mission.

Kom'rk kept being as useless as ever. His main function seemed to be to make my skin crawl. The only time he spoke up was when I sacrificed the first Mando ever.

"Finally."

I think I will hear that word echoed in my head forever. As if killing people was some fundamental skill you needed for life. Though, being Mando probably meant just that. I closed my eyes for a second and reached out for - the _lor'kina_. May Thrawn burn in all hells this universe knows for that. I don't think Kom'rk understood what I was doing, he only got the sudden calm radiating from me.

If there was a civilization designing a complete system to officially hide under I should have liked it more. It made ordering people to die easy. That had nothing to do with me anymore, it was all a part of the game. I saw Thrawn sweep the last of my purple pawns of the _Gasha_ board in my mind's eye. Someday I would get back at him for this.

But until then, I ordered men and women to die, because I could. My palms pressed themselves against my sides almost automatically. I think the last time I stood that straight had been when I had taken Flamenco lessons. The exercise was successful and I had my first bodycount.

"Careless," Kom'rk commented and left the debriefing to Jaing.

Still there was no tea in sight. I really, _really _would have liked some as he picked apart all the mistakes I had made. Half of the dead could still be alive. Okay, I didn't think tea would cut it anymore. Did they have a secret stash of _tihaar_ anywhere on board? I laid down on my bunk wondering what Rukh did all day. 'Staying general in shape', had been his answer. I wondered if he meant physically or mentally and scrapped the train of thought as it lead nowhere.

It was not very surprising that they trusted more in his abilities than mine. I wanted to stop thinking about it and relax. But even closing my eyes, I could not. Not really. Because if I relaxed the grip on myself the reality of command crushed me. Sending people to die was not my idea of fun. I would have had an easier time going into death myself. My life I could answer for, but those of others? Whatever qualified me for that? Nothing.

But the exercises kept improving. As long as I hid behind my gestures and saw the layers of the head display as shine-through _Gasha_ levels everything worked out. So I didn't even try to drop it the most of the time. Being a Mando was a lot about scrubbing armour and keeping things in shape anyway.

At least that was something I got easily. Also since there was quite an emphasis on the fact that those were borrowed plates and the owner expected them back in mint condition. Not that the owner ever showed up. I sat in my room doing the after exercise armour check and listened to Rukh. He told stories of Honoghr as it was. They were nice, foreign and strange. He sometimes dropped a word or two about the training for the Empire. It started out very early on Honoghr and only the best were finally chosen to serve. It was a great honour - or had been.

"Will you miss it?" I wanted to know. Having a purpose in life must be nice.

He took a long time to consider that. "It will still be there," he finally said. "With a new name and a different purpose, but the structures are too old to vanish. They were there before the Empire, they will be there after the New Republic. We have always been fighters."

Unlike me. But nobody asked my opinion on the matter and that was that.

"Training won't do you any more good," Jaing stated. "Let's go to Ord Radama."

He left me to do the research on my own but that didn't tell me anything either. What the hell did they want there? I couldn't fathom it.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	129. 128

One-Hundred And Twenty-Eight

"Collet, take a few men and make for the engine control room. Everybody else, search pattern, relay to me. Bridge, stay locked down."

I ran. I ran and this ship was too big for my taste. This was all out of control, and I would have given everything for one of Kom'rk more scalding glances. 'You're in way over your head', they said and that was so true.

"Bridge, acknowledged." Came the reply over my headset.

"Collet acknowledged. I have Tersu, Jyvun, Tenshi and Basai with me."

Hell if I had ever heard those names before. "Copy," I got out and took another of those annoying turns. More replies came in from all sides. Everybody reported in if my lists compared correctly. Everybody except Jaing and Kom'rk. The Force take them, would serve them right.

"It's easy," Jaing had said. "Foolproof. We do it all the time."

"Not even you can bungle that one," Kom'rk had said though there had still be some doubt in his tone. I really, really wished he was around to give me a scolding. Preferably after saving the day. But no, those two were holed up in the last corner of the ship. Purposefully out of the way and out of contact. Because this was easy and they did it every other day.

BLAST!

I wanted to shout but that wouldn't improve anything. Just this once, why couldn't things work smoothly? The customs check had gone so well. The small ship had been hidden inside _Muunaak _like just another of the smaller ships they had along for personal use. Come to think of it, just as the _Liberty_ was. There had been checks and papers were signed and questions answered and, which was the most surprising part, - all by me.

"Calfan reporting in. Target sighted, level thirteen headed for engine control room."

One of the many blips on my display brightened for a second and I made one of the few blue blips I had mark the place. So they were indeed after the secondary control unit in the engine section. "Copy. Bridge, open corridor from marked position."

"Tenev copy."

I hoped I'd remember her name the next time I called on the bridge. The army of green dots swarmed all over my displays. The searched areas turned green after they had been locked down. Still, it was a frigging huge ship to find three people on. What were they thinking? Provided they thought at all. These were Mandos they tried to rip off.

"Engine control room under fire," another voice chimed in. "Holding up fine. Keeping them busy."

"Collet copy. On our way."

I was just grateful for the self-organisation of them. If they had needed me to order them around and into action, we'd probably be dead already. I skittered to almost a stop and bumped face first into the closed door. Finally.

"Tenev under fire."

What? Didn't those guys - no matter, no time. "Copy." I looked over the displays frantically. "Levels nine, seven and three to the bridge." Those decks were mostly accounted for; the danger of yet another surprise was smallest. "Everybody done with their bits converge on the engine control room and bridge along the following vectors." I used my finger to draw a few lines into my display. Modern technology was such a convenience.

A flood of 'copy's reached me and I calmed down enough to buzz on the door. It took a lot of control not to rush in and blabber. Instead I only poked my head in. "Follow and listen." I began my way towards the nearest Mando. He had a helmet and they would have access toe everything. There was no time to go back to the bridge.

"The customers turned hostile, spread out and try to take the engine control room and the bridge," I tried to be concise. I hoped I thought of everything of importance. "Teams are searching the ship for more unwanted surprises. Collet has four at the engine room, four are moving towards the bride. The rest will join after finishing the search pattern."

I took a deep breath. "Asking permission to hand over command, sir."

"Permission granted." Jaing snatched my headset and began to order around people. I tried to keep up with him and his brother but those two were faster than a speed train. I heard shooting and when my hand went to where a gun was usually attached to an outfit, I found nothing. Great, just great. Patting myself down for anything useful, I got hold of my lightsaber. I hoped it would be enough to scared the intruders. I could do little else with it.

There was a sudden jerk of the whole ship. Jaing talked into the headset some more and looked very serious suddenly. I held on to the lightsaber, never taking my eyes off him. The shooting stopped. So did Jaing. He exchanged glances with Kom'rk who nodded slightly and vanished.

"To the bridge with you," Jaing ordered. He stuck a tiny earpiece into my right ear and I had no time to wonder where that came from. "Impress the new arrivals with your Jedi appearance. Or else."

"Yes, sir." I snapped into a salute and broke into a run again. I had no idea what was going on and really wanted to know about the whys and whats. But it was no use. And soldiers didn't ask questions anyway. We just obeyed. For a moment I considered speeding up, but a huffing and puffing Jedi would impress nobody.

Blood pooled on the ground before the bridge and lines of it indicated the direction in which a body had most likely been dragged off. I straightened up and put on my best arrogant face. I would be calm. I had nothing to give. My hands would be closed for my opponent.

"Master Morrison," a voice I tentatively identified as Tenev greeted me.

Putting the fist still curled around the hilt of my sabre over my heart I bowed my head to her solemnly. Then I slowly turned to the screen and looked the man on it up and down as deliberately as I managed. I waited. After he didn't say anything for a while I tilted my head slightly. "So?"

The man on the screen looked none too happy. His eyes kept darting to the lightsaber in my hand. I lowered my gaze to it and looked back to him slowly, lowering it deliberately.

"You will surrender the ship to us," he finally said. "You are surrounded and infiltrated. If you want to keep the ship intact, you will do as told."

"Hmmhmm," I replied softly, watching him through half-closed eyes. Then I let them unfocus. Playing a Jedi using the Force to check on his surroundings was fun, I just hoped it didn't look ridiculous.

"Three freighters and fifteen fighters," Jaing's voice came from the earpiece. "A challenge, but not impossible."

I let a smile creep onto my face and opened my eyes again. "A very interesting proposition," I said. "Are you sure about it?" I tilted my head the clone way still smiling.

"Of course I am," he blustered. "I have-"

"Four dead people on this ship," I interrupted him, turning my head as if listening to an inaudible voice. Which actually I was. "And twelve sets of disabled plastoid explosives. Interesting placement, too. I nothing would have been damaged by those placed on the blast doors, beskar is rather sturdy Mister...?"

There was no answer for a long moment. "You are still outnumbered."

"Give it half an hour."

He turned around and talked to somebody for a while. Meanwhile I listened to Kom'rk coordinating the counter attack. In half an hour they would have reduced the others to fewer than us. At least that was the plan. Not that the commander needed to know. From his reaction he obviously assumed we'd get back up.

Suddenly a handful of green blips appeared on the tactical displays. The face of my opponent showed he'd seen it too. Not that he looked any troubled. "Trying to impress me?" He asked.

"Not necessary," I bluffed. "You already are."

The ships made a nice arch along the freighters and converged on the main vessel. The others were out of range of the _Muunaak_. I wondered what that was about. As a battle formation it didn't look sensible to me. Suddenly the furthest ship eploded and where there had been nothing before, a small green blip appeared on the screen. I nodded wisely as if not surprised at all.

"Let me make this easy for you," I told the man. "Right now, we're a fully functional warship and you are partly space trash with not enough scrap value for us to bother picking up. You have a minute to project the future."

The blips on the displays danced around like mad midgets. I tried not to calculate how many people you needed to man a freighter like that. I also wanted very much to ignore the tactical display, just in case there were suddenly less dots than before.

"You don't want to fight." I moved my hand in a tell-tale gesture before my face. I was no Jedi but nobody on the other ships knew. Mind-boggling could save his face. He seemed to consider that, and also the fact that he probably didn't feel any less inclined to attack us than before. "There is nothing to be gained from fighting, the losses will outweigh the gains."

He nodded sharply. "The losses of fighting you would not make up for what we'd get for your damaged crate."

"It is too much trouble." I suggested.

"You're not worth it," he almost spat out. The connection broke. And then they were gone.

I couldn't believe that I should have bluffed my way out of this. From the corner of my eye I looked at Tenev. From her movements I guess she was talking rapidly with Jaing and Kom'rk and whoever was involved in the attack. Actually, everybody seemed very busy except me. So things were back to normal, right? I settled down to wait for the moment somebody deigned to fill me in.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	130. 129

One Hundred And Twenty Nine

It took another excruciatingly long hour until there was finally a debriefing. I had no idea what had been going on until then. The blips had slowly retreated back into the hangar and then nothing seemed to happen for a long time. I listened in on the talk but it was mostly on Mando which I didn't really get.

Tenev handed command over and beckoned me to follow. Kind of her, really, since I had no idea where we were headed. So those buckets were useful for something after all. I followed her in silence. It had been irritating me with the clones, but it felt almost natural among the Mandos. Maybe because their helmets did not invite chatter much. Dave's squad had been around me mostly with their buckets off.

I tried to gauge Tenev's body language. But whatever she was projecting it did not really show through the armour. Or I was simply not up to it. One of the many things his Admiralship kept complaining about, too. Maybe he was right after all. I was not very observant most of the time.

Rukh was already in the small conference room and fell back into his role as bodyguard easily. I hoped I wouldn't forget to ask where he had been during the attack. Sitting down I wondered where Collet was, his orange armour should have stood out. But it didn't and all seats were taken. I looked from Jaing to Kom'rk and Tenev. And suddenly I wished very desperately they'd take off those buckets.

They didn't. I get the feeling that some talk was happening under those helmets. Still my earpiece was silent. I was not a part of this. Not really. I looked down at my hands and folded them on the table. A gesture of demure defeat and dissaproval.

"Tally," Jaing demanded into the silence.

"Collet and Jyvun, minor damage on the ship, no fighters lost," Tenev replied promptly.

My head jerked around to her and my breath caught in my throat. This had to be some kind of bad joke. "Dead?" It was all I got out.

Five helmets nodded shorty in affirmation. "He fought well and enabled the team to take down the intruders at the engine control room."

I had sent him. The thought crashed through my head. He had been the closest of all at that time and I knew him and that equalled trust on this ship where I hardly knew anybody. So I had sent him. I. Me.

"We retrieved the armour and jettisoned the bodies." The tone was supposed to be reassuring but the content somehow didn't let it. My fault. I had sent him. My head started spinning, but I didn't even know how to start stopping it.

"I -"

They turned towards me again and I didn't know what to say.

"As a command decision it was a very sensible one," Kom'rk commented sounding almost a bit surprised about that. "He was in the vicinity and one of the most capable fighters aboard." It was probably meant to be another compliment.

But I couldn't concentrate on it as something I had heard but not realised suddenly hit home. Jettisoned.  
Something cold and black blanketed me.

Bodies didn't mean much to Mandos alright, but this was a little over the top, was it not, I mean - okay I disposed of my hamsters in the trash, too but this was different. They were still people. Retrieved the armour. Will be handed down to his family and live on. But, but - I couldn't grasp a coherent thought.

"Ms. Morrison?", Kom'rk's voice broke through the chaos around my head.

I shook it violently, but somehow it didn't feel as if it changed anything. Of course it didn't. Collet was still dead and I was still the commander who had sent him into his demise. My head jerked up. "Yah?"

"Are you following?"

I nodded, half stunned. "Yes, Sir."

"You run her through the post battle procedures, Tenev," Jaing cut in. "Anything special there?"

Tenev shook her head. "No problem."

"Good. I see no reason why Ms. Morrison cannot resume command now."

Silence dropped like a stone and I felt eyes crushing me. It was no improvement at all, that they were hidden behind visors. None at all. My head was still busy not catching up with Collet's death. I did not feel in any shape to resume anything, not even my life. But who asked me anyway?

Jaing pushed my headset towards me over the table. "Ms. Morrison."

For a second I didn't move. I was scared that my hand would shake incredibly if I dared to reach out to the headset. I was scared that the moment I opened my mouth I'd just fall apart. Collet had fought and he had died. And it had been a sensible decision. And he was still dead.

Mellanna curled up in a corner of her soul weeping as Ms. Morrison reached out and took the headset. There was a small cold corner in my mind, a niche in an iceberg, a frozen clam that didn't mind. My hand didn't shake as I took the headset and nodded.

"Acknowledged." No vocoder was necessary to make it sound like flat metal in my ears. "Commander Tenev?" I got up ready to leave.

She seemed to clear something else with the group but again nothing was audible to me. I was no part of this and still I had cost them a valuable member. I closed my eyes as I made the few steps to the door. Rukh was at my side like a shadow, like death hovering one step behind my right shoulder. But I was not going to Ixtlan.

I went to the bridge. Green splinters of soul hovered in the frozen silence of myself. The viewport mirrored it in the hard, motionless starscape. "Status of the _Muunaak_?"

"Hull integrity intact, shields functioning, engines unaffected. We're ready to go."

Nodding I tried to pry my eyes from the viewport. "Set return course for Ord Radama, hyperspace at leisure." Unconsciously I kept searching the cold emptiness fearing to find the remains of what had once been a human. Disappointed relief mixed into the prolonging stars and snapped away as it was sucked into the patterns of hyperpsace.

"The post battle procedures?" I turned to Tenev.

"Follow me." She led me to a free terminal and we went through the stats together. It was the digital version of paperwork, really. Seeing what had been used and needed to be replaced, possible damage and actual damage, lists of repairs that had to be done and all that. The first reports were coming in, too. Tenev probably got it all on her HUD. This was not my world, it was just eating me up.

Tenev then led me a tour of checking on the ship which ended at the collected explosives. A green and brown Mando was sorting through them, stacking components neatly around him, looking perfectly at ease.

"Anything useful?" I asked him.

He looked up shortly. "Only second rate material. We can use some to restock, but most won't even be worth selling."

"Salvage what you can, jettison the rest," I told the man my headset finally deigned to identify as Tenshi. I browsed through the reports where I had caught his name before. It seemed that he had taken the role of Collet. A cast-out part of me hoped desperately to be far away before I could send him into his death as well. How did others stand it?

The overall checks took a few hours, but the ship turned out to be really unaffected except for a few scratches in the paint. I didn't think I'd remember much of the proceedings, but then I hoped to never have to do them again; here or anywhere else. Byss hovered on the edge of my consciousness but I pushed it away determinedly.

Back in my quarter I pulled off the headset and put it on my desk. Then I sat down on my bunk and stared at the wall. After a while I realised that Rukh was looking at me. "Where have you been?"

"Piloting the _Liberty_ in battle," he replied promptly.

For a second I glanced at him, but the blank smoothness of the wall was more alluring. It led nowhere, but also demanded nothing, just accepted the surface I had made for myself. Rukh was upsetting that calm. He had been out there. A green blip on black and the splinters of green rearranged themselves, grating their edges and breaking. I was not part of this. An invisible hand swept that last pieces of the _Gasha_ board and orange spilled over the floor.

Game over.

I laid down and closed my eyes. There was more cold and empty space than stars. And all stars will burn out in the end. Space endured. Black was everlasting. I put an arm over my eyes, blocking out more of the light and considered taking at least my boots off. But I didn't want to leave the darkness behind my eyes. All sparks will burn out in the end.*

_So it began and Khanathitera stepped through the gates that sealed her fate._ Rukhs voice growled into the black void. _And her life was full of toil as she watched white Moon from afar, his tall figure shining bright across the distance. But she was cast with the servants and only her eyes ever touched upon him._

I let my mind drift along this lifeline to sanity; a barbed wire to hold on to as night arose from inside. Burn out. The end.

_And Moon delighted when he heard that she was his servant and had her come before him on the pretence of serving her cake. He rested his eyes on her and found her beautiful. She had her dark eyes cast to the ground lest they betray her and her heart beat fast because she was close to her goal._

_Moon watched her as he ate, but she waited in still silence, the beating of her heart measuring the time. And she kept her eyes on the ground feeling his gaze upon her. The knife felt strong against he calf but her hands stayed on the ground before her. She had no chance to kill him yet as he sat on his throne and his heart was too far for her to reach. So she bowed her head and hid her thoughts, but she smiled because she was close to her goal._

_Seeing her demure and silent Moon wondered because he had seen her face confident and strong. "You are new in my house," he said. Khanathitera nodded in silence and he watch the bend of her neck._

_"Be not afraid," said Moon and stepped to her. "For you are safe here and none shall touch you."_

_But Khanathitera did not answer for the knife burnt on her calf as he approached. But her goal was coming to her and she smiled._

_"Rise," said Moon and the white hair fell into his face as he leant towards her for she was slow and her hands were shaking as they moved for the knife almost reaching. But Moon saw her shaking __hands __and took them into his raising her up._

_And finally Khanathitera looked at him and her gaze burnt him to his foundations._

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

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* All Sparks by Editors


	131. 130

One Hundred And Thirty

_The morning is grey with impenetrable fog. Like a dragon's eye the sun burns an orange hole into it, piercing my head with icicles of fire. I turn and the fog around me wafts with chimeras and illusions._

_The orange dragon soars, approaches its jaws wide and teeth like sabres. His silence roars in my ears, the heat of its breath melts fog, mirroring it on itself like a mirage, smears of fire breaking the black surface. My head sinks through it, suffocation on the liquid tar and the dragon's teeth close around it._

_The black on black desert stands around me like a freeze frame. Nothing moves in the stark emptiness stretching all around me. Unbroken plains of black and the black sky above touching in the distance so far I cannot see it. _

_The grey on black desert stands around me like a freeze frame of storm flaying the skin from my bones. Nothing moving in the stark emptiness that stretches through me to eternity. _

_The grey on grey desert stands around me like a freeze frame. Black lurking behind the endless horizon with teeth of ice watching me stand in the black on black desert without a place to go. My shadow lies behind me, cast from no light and cold space. The freeze frame freezes me in the moment forever._

"Time to get up," Rukh's grey voice growled into my ear.

I must have fallen asleep, but I was still wearing my boots. I stared at them as if they could reveal the ultimate truth of life to me. They didn't. When I reached the bridge, Tenev was already there.

"Course has been changed," she announced. "We're going to Vaynai."

I simply nodded. What else could I do. "Reason?"

"Meeting with Master Skywalker. Communication came in four hours ago." Her helmet turned towards me. "Lucky for all of us, isn't it."

Yah, lucky us. I stared ahead not sure what to think. There was nothing really to do so that put one worry of my mind. But there was - I didn't know - I mean, Luke Skywalker? But the course had been changed already. I stood on the bridge like in a diorama; the armour somehow keeping a keen eye on my posture. Yes, I did pay a lot of attention to details now. It kept my mind from slipping into the past and paying attention there.

Future - that was the way to think. Forwards, never looking back. It swept a lot of tribulations from my plate. I pressed my shoulders against the backplate. I would have to remember how useful such an exoskeleton was.

"Leaving hyperspace in ten," Jyvun announced.

I waited until the swirls of blue had transformed into stars again. Vaynai looked like a blue marble; only a few ships were orbiting it, the biggest of them hanging back in space a little. The _Muunaak_ set course for it. So this was where it got interesting.

"Tenev, you have the bridge." I made an about turn, but was still unable to spot Rukh. He'd follow me anyway. I was not sure if it was reassuring or worrying that I didn't see him even when I moved fast. Jaing had already powered up the Liberty by the time I arrived. I was not going to complain. Since the armour didn't allow me to plop down in the co-pilot's seat, I sat down properly. That stuff made for all kinds of manners.

Jaing exchanged a few words with Tenev, but since it was all in Mando I didn't get much of it. Maybe I should try to acquire rudimentary Mando skills. Though I was pretty sure, I'd just mix it up with the Cheunh and confuse everybody. Ah, well.

"Is there a dictionary or grammar for Mando?" I asked Jaing.

His head turned into my direction fractionally. "Possibly.

And here I had been thinking that not being helpful was Kom'rk's job. At least it was a way of telling me not to bother. So I would not. Instead I stared out of the viewport, trying to see something in the empty expanse outside.

"You need to be more assertive," Jaing said suddenly. "You give up too easily."

For a moment I considered looking at him, but I just closed my eyes for a moment. "What do you expect from me Jaing?" Only when I said it, I realised I was suddenly on first name basis with hima and not sure he approved. But it would have to wait. "I'm not a soldier; I'm not a commander. I am feeling my way through this as things happen and am not sure if I am up to any of it." I sighed. "I'm a clerk and a story-teller."

"You are a solider and commander now," came his harsh reply. "So stop moping about it and get your act together."

"I want to be perfect," I stared reciting. Then I stopped because going on was not really an option whether I believed it to be true or not. "I want to be perfect, but I'm me," I said instead, jumping a few lines neatly. "I can do only so much and I make mistakes and screw up and fail to live up to expectations."

"It's not about never failing," he interrupted me. "It's about getting up again each time."

It was probably not a good idea to tell him that I had it up to here with getting up. At the moment I was suspended in free fall anyway, so what? "I keep getting up - in quicksand." I looked at my hands. "Just because I am standing, doesn't mean I'm not going down."

Lowering my arms before me in the traditional Chiss greeting, I moved my hands through the complete sequence before closing them into fists, palms pointing down. Full stop. Then I opened them completely. Free fall. Slowly bent up the fingertips to the ceiling as far as I could, making my hands vulnerable to any kind of action. Power given. I was who I was.

For a moment I held the pose before falling back out of the _lor'kina_. "This is all I can do, all I can give and all I can be. If it is not good enough, it just isn't."

"Not good enough." He held out his right, the palm facing up - half a Chiss greeting.

I put my left in his and as his thumb curled around my index finger I automatically put my thumb on his. Suddenly he squeezed his fingers close as if trying to make a fist. Unfortunately, my fingers were in the way. My left hand hurt. I stared at the grey clamping my hand. That had been a living being once. The surface was cold and smooth against my skin. Her name had been Ko Sai. And now her skin did nothing to soften the crush of Jaing's hand. It was eerie, people turning into gloves.

"Did you really eat her?"I wondered out loud. "And what _is_ tatsushi?"

He laughed and let go of my hand. "There are some things even we don't do." He balled his hand into a fist. "And tatsushi is a dish made of fish in very thin slices."

A soft alarm began to ring and I finally managed to tear my gaze off his gloves. The approaching vessel was not visible through the viewport. Not to mention I had no idea how to dock anything in space and enable people to move from one ship to another. "Is this the reason you didn't bring Jusik?"

"Possible," he replied. "We have enough time to chivvy you through the process. Oya."

I nodded and concentrated on the controls. Better than thinking in circles for sure. I had to make up my mind about what I wanted to tell Luke and what not. And why.

"_Liberty_, this is Luke Skywalker," his voice came from the comm. "Ready to dock." A few beeps followed, definitely R2.

I tried to breathe regularly and not shake. "Skywalker, this is Mellanna Morrison. Docking procedure initiated." My mouth felt dry. This was it.

"Copy, Ms. Morrison. I am looking forward to meeting you," he replied. "I heard some interesting stories about you."

I bit my lip not to answer. Because I had sure heard more interesting stories about him by far. The ship shook during the docking process and it took some time until I realised that the _Liberty_ was perfectly still. What was moving were my hands. Talk about nervous.

"Jedi," Jaing commented. "They tend to have that effect on people."

I turned to look at him. "Everybody seems able to read me just fine, so I really should be more used to it." It was decision time, time to get this place down another leg of the trousers of time. Taking this literally, meant I was currently huddling in the crotch of time's trousers. I cracked a smile and got up. Why did people make images like that? Didn't they know what my head would to to them?

At least it would be interesting to see Luke's reaction to the idea, should he be able to read it from my mind.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	132. 131

One-Hundred And Thirty-One

Luke now.

A lot of words have been used to describe him but I was not sure which of them to repeat. If he still had the farmboy, he sure had left him at home. Clad in serene black he reminded me a lot of the more grown up version in RotJ, self-assured, centred, calm. Intent blue eyes assessed me carefully.

I had the urge to hide behind Jaing's armoured bulk, but he was wearing people for gloves and wouldn't have it. So I tried my best to smile and feel less vulnerable which was not easy under this scrutiny. At least I did not feel danger or a threat coming from him. If that meant anything from a Force-toast like me.

"Master Skywalker." I dug up the bow C'baoth taught me from the depths of memory. "I am pleased to finally meet you." Somehow that did not sound like me at all.

Luke returned the bow with a smile. "Ms. Morrison, Captain Skirata."

The grey helmet tilted a little. If Luke was curious at all, he didn't show and I was sure he had even spotted Rukh by now. Then I realised that I was also not wearing my imperial uniform but the borrowed plates. Great. How did that look and what kinds of signals was I sending already without meaning to?

Come to think of it, shouldn't I be ushering them into the tiny bit of ship that doubled as salon? Raking through Seros' lessons I found nothing that applied to Jedi Masters and Mando captains alike. Desperate, I grabbed the first bit of procedure I could mangle into usable shape. My right hand came forward, it's palm facing upwards while my left came to rest on the blade of the virtual ritual dagger attesting the inability to use it.

"These surroundings are not befitting your ranks," my right gestured towards the pseudo-salon the palm slowly turning towards the ground to indicate a longer stay. "I apologise for the circumstances that force it to be so."

Luke seemed slightly amused and surprised. "I can see that this will be a more interesting conversation than I had anticipated."

"As long as it is worth the stars' time it takes -" My head caught up with my mouth and shut it before it could barrage into any walls with it's current bout of _lor'kina_. The urge to strangle Thrawn returned suddenly and very strongly. Bastard.

"You seem well-prepared for a meeting like this," Luke went on.

"Prepared in ways not mine," I got out around the lurking Chiss protocol. "It offers sure footing when there is truly none. I am prone to pounce on it in case of stress."

"And this is stressful to you?" He sat down on the short, curved bench. Jaing settled down beside him which left me in front of both on the lone stool of the ship.

I tried to smile and probably grimaced. "You have no idea."

"I can feel your turmoil," he replied with a grin that indicated even toast could feel it, not to mention see it. "But there is more, something hard and unmoving that I cannot place."

Folding my hands nervously I tried not to let my eyes flit around. For a moment I wished - rather desperately - that Jaing was not there, because total breakdown seemed like a good idea. I bit my lip. "This is important. This is about the future, everyone's future. I have to get it right or it will end in utter disaster."

"That means?" Luke asked.

I glanced at Jaing. Perfect recall. Anything I said, he'd remember. Luke followed my eyes and cast a questioning look at me. But I didn't tell him. Instead I tried to think. "Didn't Han tell you?" Oops. I really needed to watch my tongue. I was so used to talk about everybody here as if we were friends. And we were not.

But Luke only nodded. "I find it hard to believe."

"You better," I sighed. "And you don't want to put your academy on Yavin IV because of the dead Sith Lord Exar Kun's mind being trapped in one of the temples."

"I am not planning to set up an academy," he objected mildly.

"Not yet," I replied. "But how else can one Master hope to teach more than one pupil?"

"There is only Kyp."

"Streen. On Bespin somewhere. He can't shield other people's thoughts so he shuns them." I paused. "And Dorsk 81, on some planet where they clone themselves instead of other offspring. Not sure where that is, though."

He eyed me cautiously. "And why would you be telling me this?"

"Because I can?" I suggested. "And because I need your help."

"If you wanted to bribe somebody with information you should have gone to Karrde."

"I am not buying, you," I objected. "I'll tell you anyway." I rubbed my face with my hands trying to untangle my thoughts. "I hope that if I tell you all this, you will want to help me or at least realise it would be a good idea in general."

"You are very convinced of your plans, Ms Morrison."

"No, just scared of the future. And one thing the future need will be Jedi; your Jedi."

"What if I cannot train them?" The doubt in his voice sounded honest.

"You can. I know it." If such a reassurance from me counted for anything. "And maybe we can find some disciples of Altis. He was not from the Old order but even they didn't know it all." I glanced at Jaing and stopped my upcoming rant against the Old Order's copious shortcomings. But I would not name Jusik, not to mention Kad. I was not entitled.

"There might be other ways as well," Jaing supplied on his own.

"And what is in it for you?" Luke looked at me.

"A dead cloned Palpatine, no cloned Palpatines remaining and the possibility of stopping a war and stopping people from fighting it and consequently dying in it." I took a deep breath. "Oh, you meant me personally? I don't know. A clean conscience maybe? Or not, because, come to think of it, the fighting will have to start again when the Vong arrive."

I clasped my elbows tightly. "But I'd like to start here and now and that means removing all remaining Palpatine clones and making sure he never returns." I looked into those incredibly blue eyes. Trust-inducing, if I had ever experienced that. "We'll do it anyway. But personally, I don't think we'll make it without you."

There, I had said it. Let everybody think what they wanted. Though I looked intently at my hands, I was sure that two sets of eyes rested on me with men behind them thinking furiously. Now all I could do was wait. They had to make their own decisions. We all had to - like it or not. I didn't and as I peered around, looking for Rukh, I hoped that they would be able to live with their decisions better than I could with mine.

"You realise that your ability to speak and vouch for the Empire are dodgy and mistrusted," Luke finally said. "The New Republic cannot endanger itself with questionable cooperations."

"I understand. And I suggest you don't trust the Grand Admiral; I have only so much influence on him anyway." I sighed. "But in this we are all on the same side, namely the one opposing Palpatine. It would be sheer stupidity not to join forces for such an undertaking."

"I think we all agree on that," he glanced at Jaing. "But two out of the three groups represented would rather go for each other's throat than work together."

"Pay enough and we'll do both," Jaing supplied less than helpful.

Luke folded his hands before him and gave the Mando his best Grand Master look. It needed some improving, but was respectable for a few years of practice. "I will inform the Senate of your offer - after this business has been completed."

"I wished I could get both heads of state in a room and bang their heads together until they see reason," I sighed. "What?" I added when I realised they were staring at me. "Might be the fastest solution. And I am not held by any codes of conduct or such seeing how I'm not military personnel or a politician." I crossed my arms before me.

"I will suggest this to the Senate as well," Luke said with a smile. "I don't think they will approve, though."

"Don't ask them," I countered. "Same for Byss. Do what has to be done with those willing. Let the Republic straighten out the paperwork afterwards."

"How do you plan to go about that challenge?" Luke inquired.

I put my elbows on the table, meshed my fingers and rested my chin on them. Then I looked from Jaing to Luke and back. "Subterfuge, blackmail, outright mutiny; lying, stealing, appropriating, ignoring orders, going bandit and causing uncivil unrest." I shrugged as well as I could. "Whatever works."

"I can see why you would not want to ask the Republic for permission," Jaing commented dryly.

"Of course it would be much easier if they sent a fleet and ground forces to join the attack, but how likely is that? I mean, really, there's blockheads on both sides." I sighed. "But the Grand Admiral has to lead the space battle, or we can just pack up. And Skywalker has to take on the clone Palpatine, or we're fried as well." I shot him an apologetic glance.

"So we're just for decoration?" Jaing asked. I could almost hear him raise a brow.

"What did you think?" I couldn't help grinning. "Nothing better suited for eye-candy than fully armoured up Mandos! Plus you're instant death on legs; one man armies; lightsaber proof, too."

"Is that true?" Luke asked, genuinely interested.

"You better believe it," Jaing growled. "And of course, we're not taking orders."

"Of course not," I agreed. "We've seen where that leads to, and don't we want to avoid that in the future. So what are the options?"

There were quite some, all depending on a lot of ifs and whens and provided-thats.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	133. 132

One-Hundred And Thirty-Two

It all boiled down to the fact that I was about as useful as a hole in the head, but seemingly the focal point of the upcoming events on Byss. The Republic didn't trust the Empire. The Empire didn't trust the Republic. And the Mercs didn't trust either of them not to cast all scruples to the wind at an inopportune moment and go for each others' throats. Unfortunately, I had to agree with all of that.

"So it'll all be my fault even though I can affect nothing," I surmised. This would so not work. Only that it had to. "I need some tea!" The galley was not stocked with konot tea, or any tea at all for that matter. I needed a stern word with whoever was responsible. After rummaging through all cupboards I managed to dig up something that looked like caf, sugar, and white powder I really, _really _hoped it was dried milk.

"Seems I didn't inherit Khanathitera's kitchen skills," I told the noise behind me. I stared dejectedly at the assorted items.

"Khanathitera?"

I turned around to find the sound had come from Luke and not my bodyguard. "Oh. I thought you were - Rukh." I explained lamely.

"Your Noghri bodyguard," he nodded. "I'd like to hear that story some day. From your perspective."

He smiled and I wondered which version he had been told and by whom. I played with a spoon slightly nervous. "Can you take him with you?" I finally asked. "I owe him that."

He regarded me in silence.

"I promised him a way out of the Empire," I explained. "This is my best chance so far. I would really like him to be happy."

"And how would you explain your sudden lack of a bodyguard?" Luke wanted to know.

"With the truth." I smiled but it felt cold and hard. "Thrawn would find out in the end anyway. But I'd rather see the look on his face when I tell him. That's powdered milk, right?" Thrawn was not something I wanted to discuss. My hands fluttered in nervous lack of _lor'kina_ and I cursed them silently.

"Yes it is," he confirmed. "And yes, I will. Should he want to come with me."

I gave him a blank look. Why should Rukh _not_ want to? There was no reasonable reason I could come up with. Though I would sure miss him. Maybe he could send me a file with the remaining stories about Khanathitera. I would like that. "I'll ask him."

And because the galley felt suddenly very cramped with the presence of a Jedi Master who seemed to notice the lightsaber at my belt for the first time I decided to do it immediately and bolted. C'baoth was high on the list of topics I wanted to avoid as well. Rukh was in the cockpit. As I slowly approached I realised how used I had become to his lurking presence. I would probably miss the feeling of being watched. Whatever. "Rukh?"

"Yes?" The growl had become so familiar that it was even calming.

I sighed and sat down in the co-pilot's chair. "You are free. Master Skywalker will take you with him when he leaves."

Slowly the Noghri turned his head towards me. The black eyes were shining with eerie reflections of the controls' lights. "That is kind of him."

Silence descended and I wondered why it was suddenly so difficult to find words. I wanted to tell him that I would miss him, and I knew that I should because things like that were important. But the words got stuck somewhere down my throat and I just swallowed like a pathetic idiot.

"I won't go."

The words were so soft that I believed I had imagined them. "What?"

"I won't go," he repeated quietly. "You can't be left alone."

My first impulse was to throttle him which was impossible because he was a Noghri. The second idea was to hug him which was impossible for pretty much the same reasons. I settled for staring. "But you could be free."

"There are more important things," he simply said.

I wanted to object. This reasoning was all very well when it came from me; I was doing it all the time. But to have it come unexpectedly from Rukh, and with conviction, that was something else entirely. I could forfeit my life and happiness all I wanted. Everybody else was to think a bit more selfish and hedonist. They deserved it. "But-" I began.

"It is the decision I made."

The words hit me like rocks. I was not entitled to make his decisions, but I had really hoped he'd be more intent on his own happiness. He deserved it. Only that he had decided to follow the commitment to a larger course. How could it be that I really didn't like to find my own attitudes in others? I slumped in the seat.

"So, what _can_ I do?" I asked finally.

"A good job." He returned his gaze to the viewport.

I followed his lead and tried to sort my thoughts. I couldn't deny him. I couldn't force him to leave and be a free person because if I did he wasn't. I even couldn't object to his reasons. Still I couldn't stop feeling responsible. "Thank you," I said and got up. "Even if it has nothing to do with how I'd be missing you if you were gone, I am happy I won't."

Doing a good job had suddenly become a much more personal objective. At least there was caf now. Luke didn't seem at all surprised about Rukh's decision and neither did Jaing. I stared into my cup wondering how much talking there was happening when I didn't look. Probably more than there was with me around. I sighed.

"The whole operation hinges on your ability to act on the behalf of the involved parties," Jaing said.

I wanted to drown in my caf. Acting on the Grand Admiral's behalf was already too much for me. I didn't want to know how that would feel in triplicate. "Well, at least I know how much of a say I have in your group," I replied looking at Jaing.

"No. You don't."

Oh. Just great. "Care to enlighten me?"

"We will send a certain number of ships and men," he explained. "There might be - special forces to be reckoned with. We're not going to do your dirty work. If not deployed properly, we'll do our own thing."

"I cannot guarantee substantial support from the Republic," Luke added cautiously. "A small group of volunteers should be expected, though." He cast a glance at Jaing.

"The smaller the easier to integrate," the Mando replied. "Separate chains of command would have to be coordinated in advance."

Clearly those two understood each other. After all it was not that long ago, that Luke had been working illegally and under cover. "You are making my Grand Admiral unhappy," I sighed.

"I think that is the point," Jaing supplied uncontrite.

"He's the best tactician we can get," I insisted. "There has to be a way to have him concert the overall effort."

"I don't think the Republic will agree to that," Luke stated.

"We want an override to his command," Jaing demanded.

"Yes," I glanced at Luke. "No." That was for Jaing. I was trying to think two ways at the same time and it confused me. "Thrawn doesn't work like that," I tried to explain. "His orders often don't make sense except in hindsight. That won't help any in battle, especially if you override him."

Trust - that was the issue here. If only there was more of it. I trusted Luke. And I trusted Jaing. And I trusted Thrawn about as far as I could throw him and that was a beginning. The caf was cold and bitter. This would not work. How could I object to them not trusting Thrawn any further than I did? I sighed.

"I can't expect you to trust him, when I don't," I finally went on. "And I don't trust him that much." Great. Had I just said that out loud? "But one thing I know for sure: he wants to be rid of the cloned Emperor as much as you do."

"Concessions, Ms. Morrison," Jaing said. "We need concessions."

And I didn't have them. Good going. "How much time do I get?" I asked Jaing who looked at Luke.

"A month," Skywalker replied after a moment of consideration.

That was too much time and too little. At least I had a goal when I got back now. And so much more reasons to talk to his Admiralship, who'd just stuff me to the brim with his blasted _lor'kina_ again. Still I nodded. "Can I get something written? My memory tends to be sketchy."

Jaing handed me my pad. "Done and done." He sounded smug if that was possible with a vocoder.

I took the pad. The flight instinct was overwhelming but I stayed. Mostly because there was nowhere to run. Looking at Luke I realised that he was not here to save me. I had to save myself and I couldn't. But that was to be expected, wasn't it. And it didn't matter in the overall plan of things. It really didn't. So there. That left only one thing to resolve. "When shall we three meet again?"

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	134. 133

**Author's Note: Heya and welcome everybody to over 200k of TRIDU! O.O**

**Let's celebrate with an update that gave me a high for days during and after writing it.**  
**And let me confirm (again) that I am sure this is - really, truly, I promise! - the bigger half of the story now.**  
**Oya!**

* * *

One-Hundred and Thirty-Three

The bulk of the _Chimera_ was not very comforting anymore. It swallowed us whole and the grey corridors reflected nothing. Death didn't walk half a step behind me anymore, only my bad conscience as grey and unyielding as the walls around. Rukh had been silent on the flight back. I wondered what he and Luke had been talking about as they brought the cups back into the galley and I sat in silence with Jaing feeling as if I was caught up in the wrong movie.

Following my personal Mary Sue, I should have had that talk with Luke being reassured and building me up again. But I hadn't done anything to earn trust or deserve friendship. I was an Imperial, with or without uniform. I was the other side, possibly the enemy, surely representing him.

I had no claim on Luke and he was doing his job as he saw fit. And since I trusted him, I had to accept that. Because I wanted the same trust and acceptance in return. Everything slipped from my hands and I began to understand the urge of people to control everything. Poor Palps.

Closing my eyes for a second I took a deep breath. I could not control everything. I would _not_ control everything. I would trust. I _would_ trust! Starting with Luke and Jaing and then - I stepped through the door almost right into a delineation of Byss and the space surrounding it. Behind the colourful glow a figure was visible in the dim light.

The differences crushed me. The white seemed to jump from the dark background, reflections playing over it from the display. But the nod serving as a greeting was the same heartache.

"Ms. Morrison." The words crunched on my shattering ice like heavy boots. That clipped, military accent, void of influences to roughen up the edges, the mirror image of his life. The range of Jaing's tones seemed suffocating suddenly, the lines on his face and the gloves of grey, not black. Signs of a life lived.

I stared at Dave. Everything and nothing, conflicting emotions fought in me for a clear view of reality. He was not here to save me either. Nobody was. I took a step backwards.

"Are you alright?"

Plains of shattered ice lay around me, ready to melt and swallow me whole. I couldn't tear my gaze from Dave. He could burn me simply by asking what news I had. His eyes could turn me into ashes with just a blink. And his voice grated over my memories - memories I could not forget, memories that asked, demanded and wanted, and could only fill my head with clamour.

I wanted to listen to that voice until the end of forever. But I could not, not even if it was gloved in grey or ever-annoyingly unhelpful. I felt my feet start to sink into ice and water, watching concern forming on Dave's face. He didn't know what was going on inside of me and his worry cut like a knife. If he said something now with that dark voice of his that ate at my memories -

He didn't know what was gripping and shaking me. I was not quite sure either. But he'd speak now, any second and utter concern with those eyes of his that haunted me and I would -

I bolted. The surprise on Dave's ace followed me through the corridors. Thankfully, he did not. Rukh stopped me before I could board the _Liberty_. I had no idea how I came to be here and not in my quarter. I sat down on the ramp panting and confused. Why had I not gone to my quarter?

Putting my head in my hands I tried to calm down. Who would have thought that a direct comparison of Jaing and Dave would spook me so? But I didn't hurt only on the inside where my iceberg lay in pieces. It also hurt that Dave missed everything without missing it at all. When he could as Jaing and Kom'rk proved. But he didn't care and I was alone with this.

"Sorry," I mumbled in the direction of Rukh.

"It is not me you need to apologise to," he growled.

Of course he was right. But the mere idea to return to Dave now made me shake. I desperately needed some time to build up my calm again. My self-control hung in tatters and I had to find a way to deal with this. Breaking down whenever I saw Dave would just not do.

"Where shall I find the strength," I whispered to myself. The responsibility weighed me down. How could I save the galaxy when I could not even save myself? Admittedly I knew an answer; it simply scared me.

"Where you don't expect it," Rukh replied into the silence.

I tried to look at him, but his form kept blurring before my eyes. He was still here because I could not be left alone. Looking at myself right then I had to concede he was right. All my fault. Again. If I was stronger he could be gone now. I swallowed. If only I was more resourceful, competent, capable. He could be gone and happy by now. He could be so many things.

"I'm sorry," I repeated. "Sorry I can't be left alone and grounding you here." I should be stronger; so I would. And if Dave crushed my heart by resting his eyes on me I would sweep up the fragments and move on. And if Thrawn shattered my self by manoeuvring me into killing, I would mop up the mess and move on. And if Jaing broke my soul by making me order people to go into their death I'd wipe the green shard away not even hoping for Luke to put them back together again. And I would move on.

So I would move on. I took a few deep breaths and emptied my canvas. Then I carefully painted an image of calm on it. Moving on. My pad immediately challenged my new-found countenance by blaring into life and showing Arn's concerned face. "Hello, sir." I smiled deliberately.

"I heard you have a situation down there," he said cautiously. "The Grand Admiral wished to talk to you about that."

I nodded politely as the _lor'kina_ fell back over me in ripples. "Of course. I shall be on my way immediately."

Arn looked doubtful, but my walls were firmly up and representing. It was almost easy to get up and walk through the corridors of cold grey again. I would have to apologise to Dave later. I made a note in my pad because I couldn't trust my memory to remember anything past. He deserved so much more than this. And I could not give any of it to him because it would destroy the galaxy. That I could not answer for.

So I would keep to what I could answer for. I checked on my body language as I entered the small antechamber. Then I checked on it again before leaving it. I stepped into another assortment of displays. The museum treatment strengthened my assumption that this would be on an non-military, all-Chiss basis. That played right into my plans. Without the reassuring weight of the armour plates the _lor'kina_ made for an acceptable substitute of an exoskeleton.

I put the signs of neutrality bordering on agreement on. I needed those concessions. And I would most likely not get them if I wasn't a stable and responsible member of the galaxy. Hopefully it wouldn't matter that I couldn't find a smile in my repertoire. This wouldn't last forever. Nothing did. I would just have to keep it short.

"Mellanna." He stumped all my expectations of procedure and formality with this one word. My signals stuttered and his glowing gaze burnt through me, but I refused to let my _lor'kina_ melt.

"Thrawn." The name tingled on my lips. This was an informal Chiss setting suddenly and while the whole Empire might consider this to be his last name, I knew otherwise. And in combination with the Chiss bearing it made the exchange uncomfortably close. I wished I wasn't so trapped in that foreign culture and could reframe things in an Imperial colours.

"DV-384 reported you unbalanced. He was worried." Well, Thrawn didn't sound worried at all, politely interested possibly.

I found one of the smiles and put it on. "I apologise for the incident." I opened my hands towards him. "That must not happen again and I will make sure it does not."

He turned his head away from me a few degrees. Ouch. Then he got up and clasped his hands behind his back in a military gesture. Why did he fall into Imperial body language now? Something inside of me tried to panic. Just when I was playing his game. What the frag did he want?

"The grasp you achieved over your body language is remarkable." He walked around me slowly. The boots thudded darkly on the metal floor.

"Thank you, sir." I forbade myself to flinch at the lapse. I would not be intimidated or made jittery. I would also not tell him how very useful this new skill was.

"Your mouth is still faster than your mind, though." There was a trace of amusement in his tone.

Taking the hint I thought a moment before choosing an answer. "I am working on it. Once the gestures of the _lor'kina_ come to me more naturally, I shall have more focus left to turn onto my speech."

"A loss for the Chiss society, no doubt." He came to a stop before me. "The reasons for your unfortunate behaviour today?"

"The direct comparison of Jaing Skirata with DV-384," I replied, almost stumbling over the number. It was an explanation as shaky as I had been earlier, come to think of it, but it would have to do.

"I see." He tilted his head. "And you can handle it now?"

"Yes, sir!" Damned. I really needed to work on that sir. My surface flickered with the realisation of the repeated slip. "I will apologize to him as soon as I can." I ignored the nagging at the back of my mind.

"You are certain that recent events have had no part in your sudden instability?"

My eyes shot up to his face and I bit my lip before I knew it. I stopped myself and ordered the signals into disagreement and firm conviction. "I do not see the relevance of your question."

"So you don't." Thrawn crossed his arms before him. Where were my Chiss signals? "You cannot deny the changes in your behaviour after your return from Yaga Minor. Despite achieving the primary goal."

"I do my duty."

"You shot a man."

The words beat down on my inner cohesion. I tried to ignore them. "It was the only sensible course of action," I replied carefully, adding disdain to my canvas.

"That does not refute my claim, nor does it support yours," he said calmly.

"I was not aware that it should do either."

"That would have made it more than a stream of hot air."

This was going all wrong. I needed to get on his good side. I needed those concessions and last time I had read them, they had been extensive. So I would have to yield - just enough to appease him and not enough to endanger my equilibrium. "I did not go prepared to kill. I was not informed that it was the part of the plan."

"You would have been unreliable, had you known. In fear and anticipation you would have failed."

"Well thank you for that assessment of my abilities." I was fuming inside, but my canvas betrayed nothing. After all it had been his plan and I had had no say. So I might not have been happy with the full plan from the beginning, but that didn't mean I'd have messed it up. Or would it? After all it would still have been killing in cold blood, only with a lot more setting everything up. Ravines opened in my shell, cracking at the ice.

"Your body language is really improved since then. I am sure you would fool most people by now."

"But not you." What did he want?

"Never me." The tone of calm and complete conviction. "So, to return to the topic at hand."

"I am surprised you should not know about the events during my trip."

"My information system works perfectly," he replied. "But I want to hear it from you."

"Why?"

"To see if you can."

Of course I could. Who did he think I was? "The Mandalorians were gracious enough to allow me a little command training while I stayed with them."

"And Skywalker swept up the pieces after that?"

I stared at him. "And if, so what?" I demanded. "It is not as if there was much sweeping going on here."

"You keep insisting that somebody else pick up the pieces of you. I wonder what gives you this idea." His tone was chiding and challenging.

"Did you ever consider that I can't do it?" I crossed my arms before me, forgetting everything about the _lor'kina_. "Did it ever cross you mind that I cannot do this on my own? That I am not capable of going through this, this -" I waved my arms helplessly, "any of this without help?"

"It has."

And? And? What was the conclusion he had drawn? I tried to stay calm. "Well, that's a nice start." Clapping my mouth shut, I tried to get better of my sarcasm. That proved to be difficult.

"Your lack of self-reliance is deplorable," he just said. "All attempts to revise it seem to have failed."

"Revising my self-reliance." The words dropped from my lips and clunked onto the ground. "Breaking me to pieces, shattering my self, turning me inside out - all just to change an attitude."

"And to accomplish a few missions," he added still calm. "You did not turn any of them down, so I cannot see your issue."

"Didn't turn them down." I felt like a parrot. Bits of glacier calved off my iceberg and shattered on the ground. "I could have?" I blinked repeatedly. "I didn't."

"You did not," he confirmed. "When you were so adamant about having a choice. You did not even try."

Something dripped and I shook my head repeatedly. It didn't help. "Of course I didn't refuse," I almost hissed. "You known damned well how to manoeuvre me into corners or corridors or whatever. How could I even think of refusing when you had made up your mind that I should go?"

My fingers curled into fists. "How dare you tell me I could have refused? You're pulling the strings here and I jump through the hoops because I don't even see them. And should I happen to, it is already too late or I am already committed because you know how to push my buttons. Don't try to deny it."

"All this excuses you how?" he asked politely.

I was ready to strangle him. The nails of my fingers dug into my palms. "I have killed and ordered death," my voice shook, "because you wanted it so. I have turned myself upside down and inside out trying to meet your expectations. I have pushed myself beyond my limits, enduring, doing, facing things I never could." The iceberg crumpled as bits of memory broke free, haunting my thoughts.

"You splintered my soul in an attempt to reshape it and now you wonder why I blame you?" I had to pause, swallow and run my hand over my eyes. "To hell with you! To hell with the whole blasted galaxy. Why don't you just go and kill yourselves off before the Vong come to finish the job? I am out. I have it up to here. And no, there was no sweeping up of pieces and putting things back together. But you would know about that already. Why bother to ask?"

My muscles cramped trying to make up for the lack of inner stability the shattered ice had left. "Go on and play your games, Thrawn, manipulate everybody. You don't need me for that. You don't need anybody. But that is no justification to act as if I didn't either. I do!" He opened his lips to speak but I held up a hand shaking my head. "I am not the person you're looking for. I quit." Because it was the only thing I had and futile gestures were all I had left, I dropped the hilt of the lightsaber on the floor before I turned away.

I would leave and then - I didn't know what then. I would get back up, probably. Because Thrawn had likely an emergency plan for me making a scene like this. But that would be okay, because I would walk out of here with my head held high. Even if it meant nothing.

"Mellanna." The word snapped around my neck like a velvet whip, stopping me dead in my tracks. My fingers curled into fists again, ignoring the screaming _lor'kina_ in my head. I heard steps behind me. But I stood still, trying not to move a muscle.

I would not break down. I would _not_ break down. I would not look at him as the white of his uniform slowly filled my field of vision. So I kept my gaze unfocused somewhere on nothing in the air behind him.

His fingers closed around my chin, warm and adamantine, forcing me to look up.

I would not break down.

I would not break down.

I tried to keep my eyes focussed somewhere behind his let shoulder but a flick of his wrist shook my face and his intent gaze caught my glance. It took forever until I realised that I would have to breathe again some time. It took even longer until I decided the time was now. The breath rattled back into my lungs and my fists uncurled at my sides into a closed statement.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," he said softly, almost smiling. "That is my job and I am so much better at it." He tilted my head a little to the side. "And do not be so hard on me."

After a silent heartbeat he let go of my chin. He regarded his hand for a moment before wiping it dry. "We will talk later."

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	135. 134

One-Hundred And Thirty-Four

Darkness and silence.

I lay curled up under a blanket that was not quite fluffy enough to drown out the outside world. But it was sufficient as I tried to keep my mind from anything but the warm dark around me.

I had completely lost it. I didn't want to think about it, not about the reasons let alone the consequences. The slight vibration of the ship hummed through me, a calming reminder of time and space. I didn't even want to sleep, just to hang in the almost void I had created around me; unthinking, unfeeling, no past, no future.

The everlasting now was interrupted by Rukh's voice. "When do you intend to get out again?"

I peeled the blanket away from my face, peering out of my little cocoon of safety. For reasons I didn't quite understand, I didn't even feel like crying. Maybe I was just too exhausted. Since 'never' was probably not a viable option, I didn't even try. "I don't know," I said slowly. "What is out there?"

"Tea." A cup was pushed towards my face, the irresistible scent of it wafting up in damp clouds.

Staring at it I remembered the day Arn gave it to me. It felt like ages had gone by since we met with Jes and Sey and Toris. A smile crept on my face as I remembered he waltz with Toris. I sat up quickly taking the tea before my thoughts wandered on to dancing with Dave.

The manoeuvre was vain as the memory fell into an empty dark inside of me and didn't hurt at all. I inhaled the scent of tea deeply, wondering whether I was really hollow or simply numb. For the moment it didn't matter. As I sipped on the tea, my eyes fell on a cylindrical object lying on my desk. I must have been hiding longer than I had thought if Rukh had had the time to retrieve the lightsaber.

Did that mean I was not out? Not to mention that I didn't know where to go if I was. I sighed. "When is later?" I dared to ask in the end.

"After tea and a shower," Rukh replied.

I looked at my cup speculating how long one could credibly make it last. Or I could drown in the shower. I had no idea what Thrawn had to say about my outburst and I wasn't sure I wanted to. I didn't feel like going back at all, but the tea dwindled and no matter what people say, there is only so much time a girl can spend in the shower.

So I found myself facing the door out of the small antechamber again. Rukh gave a growl that might have been encouraging or impatient. I straightened my uniform and it felt strange to be completely unarmoured. With nowhere else to go, I stepped forwards.

There was art displayed, looking sober and subdued, carefully undistracting. But the room was not lit dimly, not really bright either but unusual for the museum setting. I wondered how normal lighting looked like to Chiss eyes. Was my normal already bright for him? Did he use the dim light simply to relax his eyes for a while? The means of encounters in dimly lit rooms wavered.

"Mellanna?" Thrawn's voice caught up with me. "What is keeping you?"

"Considering the differences of spectrum perception between humans and Chiss," I called back. I walked slowly through the displays, mulling over the idea.

"To what conclusion do you come?"

"That I'd have to brush up on wavelengths, visible spectrum in general and such things," I replied.

"Or you could just ask me."

"There's that," I conceded. My eyes wandered from him to a table set in the corner of the room. Dinner for two? I fidgeted unsure what to do.

Thrawn saved me further embarrassment by a perfect display of _lor'kina_. "Have a seat."

Well, why did he break out that _now_? I grumbled to myself as I sat down and realised that though I had seen a lot of strange foods by now and even recognised some of them and their ingredients, I had only ever seen those dishes on pictures. Chiss. The whole arrangement was Chiss. Many small bowls with dishes of all kinds served at the same time, scattered artistically over the table. Mood food. There was no real order to adhere to, the sequence of dishes you chose could make a statement about your attitude though. Who'd ha' thunk.

"I want it know that my current attitude is simply hungry," I said glancing over the dishes.

"Noted," Thrawn replied, picking a small bowl.

I tried to remember what that was and what it meant as starters of a dinner, but my stomach was counteracting the attempt. Then I realised that this set up would include Chiss cutlery. I almost winced. They knew spoons and they were used for soup - and for soup only. Everything else had to be approached with a two-pronged fork in the right and some spatula-knife thing in the left. The problem was that the spatula was sharpened on one edge to serve as a knife and it was not a good idea - not to mention beyond offensive - to be clumsy and/or cut yourself in the tongue with it.

So the sharp side was actually the top edge. Now try to cut something with that without changing your grip on the damned thing. You see the problem. The advantage was that you held both bits by curling your hand around the, not quite resting the back of the grip in your palm while the fingertips formed a perfect circle at just the perfect height. In theory. At least it made it easier for me not to starve and not to cut myself up.

Perusing the dishes I realised a lack of chocolate among them. Not again. If I had known that my life here would be spent in continued, involuntary chocolate abstinence, I might just have strangled myself in my cell right at the beginning. "There _is_ chocolate on Csilla, right?" I asked Thrawn.

"Possibly," he replied deadpan.

I pressed my lips together biting down on them from the inside torn between annoyance and amusement. "Wonderful." I took a spoonful of what looked like Chop Suey - with legs. Tiny, buggy little chitin-y legs. I picked on up on my fork and held it up to him. "Swap this for chocolate?"

"Char'rk beetle, very nourishing," Thrawn identified it immediately. "It has a high amount of protein and minerals. On a planet covered with ice it is rare and as such a delicacy offered to friends and trusted allies only."

Oh, great. "Bugeaters," I sighed, scrutinising the leg closely. "Well, that might be useful for the Vong," I told him looking up again. "I have heard them referred to as bugs repeatedly."

"It shall go down as the Food Invasion in Chiss history," Thrawn said dryly. "And there is chocolate on Csilla."

"So why don't I see any?" I wanted to know.

"You already know it," he replied. "Including it in an exercise like this would have been redundant."

I stared at him in disbelief. Chocolate was _never_ redundant! "Tell you what," I said brightly, "next time you include chocolate, and I include statements with my dish order."

"Your obsession with it is irritating," Thrawn just said. "Why is it so important to you?"

"Well," I thought for a moment, "it's home. Tea too. I feel fine when I get some because it reminded me of home. And that was a nice thought. Not so sure about it now, though." I chewed on my lip. "I really don't know how I feel about home now, it's gone all vague."

"If it is not reminiscent of home any longer, what is the reason?" he probed on.

"It makes me happy." Well, tat much was true.

"You are easy to keep happy then." I wished there had been any kind of inflection on that for me to interpret. But he just let me hang with all kinds of speculations.

But getting happy about small things was very sensible. How often did you get to vanquish your arch enemy? Chocolate was a much more likely incident in the scheme of things. Or had been. Here it seemed that I might just have better chances with finding and vanquishing an arch enemy. I lowered the fork back to my plate.

"Do try it," Thrawn admonished in a tone that was not quite an order, or if it was an order wrapped up in - something nice.

I put the tiny leg into my mouth and chewed deliberately. It was crunchy and spicy with a touch of melon flavour. The bits also didn't get stuck between my teeth. Well, that was not so bad. "Kudos to your bugs," I munched and finished of the rest of the leg riddled vegetables. Then I looked for something with fruit. Fruit after vegetables was something good, if I remembered correctly. But it was a pretty useless exercise since I couldn't even remember what most of the stuff before me was. Finally I decided on something that looked like shiny pink pudding. "So this is when we talk?"

"Indeed." He picked up his glass (water, unspiced for honoured friends and family only) and considered it for a while. "There is a decided tilt in your assumptions and the conclusions you, unfortunately, tend to jump to. I would like to adjust this before we proceed with the plan."

Assumptions? Conclusions? I tilted my head curiously, not minding the _lor'kina_ implications for once.

"To start with your incorrect assumption that you are alone in this." He put his glass down again. "You are not. Apart from the parties that obviously have to be involved there are the Mandalorians for one. They are a part of this purely by your intervention. As is Rukh."

Rukh - my bad conscience following me like a shadow. I put my spatula on my plate carefully.

"You have effectively influenced the choice of personnel from the first day," he continued. "DV-384 who rose from squad leader to assault liaison, Sergeant Toris and not to forget adjutant Arn."

There was nothing I could say to refute any of it.

"Then there is this counterproductive focus of yours on future challenges while ignoring past achievements. You need to work on that. You have to take the time and reflect on them."

Yah. I nodded, poking the pink glob on my plate. I had heard that before; I had given that advice to myself more than once even. "Will do," I conceded beat.

"No," Thrawn said softly. "You will do so now."

Ah. Yes. No.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	136. 135

One-Hundred and Thirty-Five

Expectant silence fell over the room and I didn't dare to lookup.

"I am waiting, Mellanna," Thrawn insisted.

I tried to think. I had had to have accomplished something, didn't I? Even if my grammar deserted me when I tried to even ask myself this. So what had I done? What had I done that was worth mentioning? "I made a sensible command decision while in training." It hurt to say it out loud. Reframe, I told myself. Reframe!

"In a precarious situation of risk and under pressure," Thrawn added and managed to make it sound like a reprimand. "You have to try at least, Mellanna."

Okay. My name grated on my nerves somewhat. But if I found something, he might just let up. "I killed Disra before he could turn into a real danger for the Empire." A disapproving noise from his Admiralship made me reconsider my wording. Frag. "I have removed a threat to the Empire from an intricate net without breaking it."

"Much better," Thrawn commented. "Go on."

So much for letting up. I suppressed a sigh. So, what else? "I have learnt to shoot and defend myself." Mostly, but I had no time for details like that now. I closed my eyes to concentrate and think. "I learnt to fly a spaceship. I handled a mad Jedi without getting myself killed. I have saved Rukh." This might be a bit more easy than I had expected. Great.

"I have saved Kyp years of slavery in the Spice Mines of Kessel. I have enabled him to live a normal life. I have prevented him from killing his brother and they are together again now. I have prevented the destruction of Carida in the process."

"A hypothetical case for everybody else," Thrawn interrupted. I opened my eyes and blinked at him. "But that should never stop you from acknowledging it as an achievement your intervention has accomplished. The future is different, if only for you."

I nodded, still thinking. I had learnt to salute properly, read and write Aurabesh, Imperial procedure and I could handle the fresher, twiddly knobs and all. I could use the terminals and pads, communicators and stations. I was in better shape than ever before, didn't need contact lenses anymore - thre were so many small things that seemed completely normal now when they had not some time ago. Amazing.

"I have adapted to this place enough to consider it normal," I summed everything up. And then I got it. "I have grown into a person I never thought possible and never stopped to realise it."

"And you saved my life."

"My pleasure," I couldn't help smiling.

"I think we are finally getting somewhere," Thrawn nodded, his eyes flashing.

"I have still killed a man in cold blood and ordered one into his death," I said. But it did not hurt much anymore.

"A sorry result, I agree," he replied. "I will make sure to increase the numbers at the soonest convenience. You cannot lead the ground attack on Byss with so little experience." He was dead serious and I reconsidered the plan to assault him the pink pudding. "Unfortunately, I cannot have you leave for now. You need a lot more lessons from Seros, because you will not embarrass me at Deerian's inauguration."

Inaugu-what? I did my best at being embarrassing right then and there before I remembered to pick up my jaw from the floor. "He made it!" Now that was good news.

"Of course," Thrawn said calmly. "And as Acting Leader of the Empire I have to attend the inauguration festivities. Those are highly formalised and dignified events. I expect your behaviour to be flawless."

"I'd like to see Deerian again," I smiled. "What do you mean, flawless?" Reality caught up with me.

"You will accompany me." Another _fait accompli_.

I stared at him until something big dawned on me, followed by a host of images, none of them being complementary on me. "Oh dear." Extra lessons with Seros sounded like a very good idea suddenly. Then I realised something else. "I have nothing to wear." I doubted jumpsuits or uniforms would do, not to mention a Jedi outfit.

"Full dress and a gown are already in the works," he replied.

"Gown?" I had no idea you could squeak that word. Well, you could.

"Not even I can deny the longstanding tradition of inauguration balls." He did not sound sorry at all.

I stared at my pink blob thinking hard. Elderly dignitaries to dance with were no problem, and I would like to dance with Deerian. And who knew who else was roaming balls like that? But at the mere hint of suggesting a dance with - well - him, you know, my imagination balked and ran. Oops. "I am not very good at dancing," I objected stubbornly.

"Sergeant Toris reported favourably on your skills," Thrawn replied. "And I am sure Officer Seros will straighten out any remaining problems."

I bit my lip. "Did he now," I murmured, wondering how Seros would assess my skills. "You might be surprised by the way I look in gowns," I didn't give up. "And I am not talking nice surprises here."

"Sergeant Toris reported favourably on that as well. Though I assume that the effect of a professional make-up and hairdo will improve the overall look greatly."

"I think I need a word with that Sergeant Toris," I grumbled.

"If you want to admonish him for a job well done, I advise against it." His tone might have been a tad amused.

Somehow, I was not. "Do you really think you can turn me into some kind of Cinderella?" I demanded.

"Cinderella?" He raised a questioning brow.

Oh my. Had I just manoeuvred myself into telling fairy-tales to his Admiralship? Looked like it.

Bother. Banging my forehead onto the table was not an option with the pink stuff still placed before me. As redirection activity I ate it. How to explain Cinderella in a few, non-embarrassing words?

"Cinderella is a fairy-tale character. She is a girl who lives with the step mother and step sisters who treat her badly and burden all work in the household on her. In compensation she had a fairy godmother who could grant her three wishes. When the prince of the country went to look for a bride on several balls, three as you might have guessed, Cinderella used he wishes to get a dress and all that so she could go, win his heart and marry him. After some turmoil it all worked out.

"The point being that Cinderella wasted three perfectly good wishes for girly getup. And it won't work on be because I'm just not -" 'pretty' was the word on the tip of my tongue. I swallowed it quickly. "-princess material," I ended instead.

"What made this Cinderella princess material?", Thrawn probed.

"She wanted it."

"You do not." It was almost a question.

"Hell, no!" I burst out. "Dressing up and achieving things by simply looking pretty has always been very high up on my list of things to avoid. Not to mention you'd need most excellent looks to get away with that."

"You are assuming that Prince did not use the occasions to talk to his bride-to-be. Another of your more dubious assumptions." He steepled his fingers, scrutinizing me over their tips. "I am sure even one short conversation would have brought up her domestic experience, not to mention the endurance."

Oh. No. I was not going to draw parallels now and get myself abducted by a prince in white uniform in lieu of a horse. No way. I grabbed the bowl with the remaining pink pudding and placed it before me. It tasted like those berry-yoghurt fillings in chocolate, only berrier. I took the spoon, most likely radiating offensive disagreement.

"Well, it won't work," I insisted, stabbing the pudding. "Because I am not Cinderella and should any prince dare to appear at the horizon he'd need a lot - _a lot _- of redeeming qualities to make up for his being a prince." I started shovelling the pink stuff into my face. I was not a girly girl. I did not want to _be_ a girly girl. I wanted, I wanted, what I _really_ wanted -I glared into the empty bowl. Well, fat chance of that.

"You are so very certain about this."

Another of those little admonishments. I took a deep breath and looked at his white clad figure. "I'm not a girly girl," I repeated out loud. "I just can't be bothered. There are more important things in life than finding the right shade of rouge or perfect bag to go with a dress."

"You will find that there are situations when nothing is more important, Mellanna." His tone was hard, not really cold but - intimidating. Somewhat. In combination with the white uniform and unmoving features (where had my _lor'kina_ signals gone to again?) he appeared very much like a statue. A statue with glowing red eyes. I felt tempted to pick them up and get my secret code to win fight Odin and win him for my team -

Yep, intimidating alright. It definitely made me nervous enough to let my thoughts stray anywhere as long as it was very, very far from the topic at hand. Still I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. What was he thinking? What was he playing at? And why, why, why was the ground around him always more difficult than quicksand, making me flail hopelessly?

"You will find me to be a major disappointment in that respect then," I sighed.

"I know. That is why you will not get a say in the matter until this handicap has been removed." He was still utterly calm, as if this was just another item on a long agenda.

My first impulse was to bristle, but I could hardly do that, when I has said the exact same thing. At least it would not be my fault, if I looked horrible.

"Are there any other questions?" Thrawn asked. His body language picked up the _lor'kina_ again and indicated a polite end of the meeting.

A million questions sprung into life immediately, filling my head with a gigantic buzz. Consequently I found nothing to say and just shook my head a bit.

"Then we will meet again tomorrow."

I got up, but didn't get far.

"I want you to to answer me the following two questions then." He got up and walked around the table. "What is it that frightens you so much about the idea of attending a ball in my company? And what would you have done with those three wishes?"

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	137. 136

One-Hundred And Thirty-Six

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it! Move it! Move it!_

_.  
_

Well, now yesterday. That had been - nice? I stared at the bulkhead above me, confused and wondering. Was that the normal reaction of guys when you flew off the handle? I didn't know. If it was, I might do it more often. I liked dinners. Somehow. Even if they included unreadable Grand Admirals. And not even Thrawn could dig up a ball each time.

Gah! That stupid ball. Which reminded me - how _had_ he done that? I should be worrying about my outburst, more command experience, killing people and such. Instead I worried about attending a _ball_. Not that I would bring this up by asking, the mere thought of the incident was embarrassing enough. And I was not thinking about it any more now. And I hadn't even noticed. Looked like his Admiralship was still manoeuvring me through hoops without me noticing. I'd have to get upset about this some day.

Seros had taken control of my breakfast again and turned it into grey globs with green sauce. The disgusting routine of it was nice actually. I had wrestled the concession of konot tea from him and was brushing up on my small talk skills. My most urgent problem was my lack of knowledge about current core hypes and culture. I loved it.

Afterwards I got beat up by Fi who did his best to be patient. In comparison to stormies I was still deplorably unathletic, but after two hours of fighting exercise I was at least still conscious to realise it. That was achievement.

"So much for hand-to-hand fighting," he said. "I have order to have you bruise-less by this time next week."

I looked at my mangles arms and red wrists. Bruise-free? So the ball was that close already. The ways I got information in this place. Sneaky Admiralship. I just nodded. "What will we do instead?"

"I heard you had a knife?"

Hell, yeah! Did I have a knife, man. Grinning I crouched down to retrieve it.

"Mellanna."

I looked up.

"Do you really think, I'll let you get anywhere remotely close to a sharp blade?"

Come to think of that - well, oops. I got up, trying to hide my embarrassment. "What then?"

"Dummies of course."

My disappointment was still there, though I was also relieved that sharpened objects would not happen in my vicinity any time soon. What had I been thinking? Nothing again. Blast. Suddenly I had to wonder about the gown and if I would be able to carry my knife under it. How would that work out? I needed to find the responsible person and ask some pointed questions.

As it turned out, Seros was not responsible and allowed to ask me a deluge of questions instead. Important Imperials of all kinds would attend the event and I was not to greet any of them incorrectly, or call Baron Bertram Count Crazy by accident and cause and incident. There were so many barons, and countless counts, Moffs, tinsel boys of all kinds and their ladies that my head swam just looking at the list of names.

But I would also have to learn their faces and status and function, rank whatever it is they consider important about themselves. I knew why I was not a social person. Picking up Moff Rimbard's file I start into a very, very long morning.

The person responsible for the gown turned out to be Thrawn. I just had to remember to ask him. Questions, answers, oh dear. I tried not to think about those during lunch. Seros had taken control of that as well and taught me how to handle cutlery to perfection; or not at all. Getting something into my mouth at all, was an achievement. Cutlery shouldn't be so difficult, but I had thirty years of practice to catch up on, and he was determined I do so in one mealtime.

The wine glasses were not much easier. But I counted on being able to tell which one I was to use in the end, by choosing the one that had been filled. Not that it worked with Seros.

Almost starved I was allowed to shoot some followers of Palps to let off steam. It still irritated me that they wore imperial uniforms, not to mention Dave's face. It was not nice to be taught where the armour of stormtroopers had weaknesses and shoo them there. What use was armour, if it had weaknesses you could get around? Well, I was pretty bad at it anyway.

"So," Arn asked suddenly, "what is it about our course of action you disagree with so much?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I said, trying to incapacitate some Daves and failing miserably.

"You should."

Raising the muzzle of my blaster to the ceiling I turned to look at him. "Why?"

"Because we don't want incidents like that to repeat, do we now?"

I bit my lip because he was right. Given a choice, I would rather not embarrass myself like that again. I wanted to hide just thinking of flying off the handle at Thrawn like that. "If he doesn't pull a ball out of the hat every time, I'll consider it," I told Arn and lowered my blaster again. I'd have to talk to Thrawn, granted, but that would be it. What was going on inside of my head was private. And it would stay private. Period.

"Well, I am looking forward to those answers of yours anyway," he went on without remorse and grinned.

Great, the imperial grapevine. Suppressing the impulse to throttle him, I fired some more at the stormtrooper dummies before answering. "One: more privacy; two: co-management in my life; three: chocolate cake."

"What happened to your humour, Mellanna?"

I thought for a moment and shrugged. "Shot it with Disra, I guess."

"Is there any way to get it back?"

"Tell some bad stormtrooper jokes?" I suggested.

"Stormtrooper jokes?"

"Yes, like: How many stormtroopers do you need to change a light bulb?"

"A what?"

I sighed. "Absolutely hopeless."

"Better me than you," he retorted and resumed correcting my shooting.

I was not so sure about that. Especially when the impulse to shoot the faces Seros showed me on the screen between the eyes didn't let up. Counts, Generals, the newly rich (as well as traditionally rich) wanted to attend the ball and it had taken a small army of clerks to work out a guest list that did not cause some intergalactic incident.

"The count of Gesl never made it close to the list, huh?"

Seros looked at me from the side. "Outer Rim Territories will be represented by Delak Krennel, we had his file just moment ago. If you would recapitulate."

I sighed.

"Ms Morrison," Seros chided immediately.

I didn't sigh again, but wrecked my brain for the correct information instead. "Former Admiral, served the fleet for the Unknown Regions, disliked serving a non-human a lot, slagged a planet and got ordered back for punishment by Palpatine." I congratulated myself to not saying Palps. "In the chaos after Endor he vanished, killed the ruler of some tyranny and his whole family and is thus now ruler himself."

I could see the sigh rise in Seros' face but his demeanour was impeccable as always. "The Ciutric Hegemony," he said. "He usurped Sate Pestage. So what is your behaviour towards this - esteemed member of the Empire."

I liked Seros suddenly for his carefully modulated cynicism. "I would like to say 'off with his head' but I don't think the approach will work twice."

"Unfortunately, I have to agree. But the notion is noble," Seros replied carefully. "If you could answer the question now."

Gah! He was unerring. Too bad, I was not.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	138. 137

One-Hundred and Thirty-Seven

It turned out to be an evening without bugged vegetables when I strode into the imitation of the bridge again. The faces hanging in midair were mostly known to me, though. I started identifying them without being told. That earned me an appreciative nod. And instructions. Because as official company to Thrawn it was my job to talk to people and make them see things my way. Or Thrawn's way to be accurate.

Krennel did come up again, his anti-alien bias was something I was to counteract. I scrutinised his image and decided it might just work. My natural interest in prosthetic limbs would sure help me over my indifference towards blonde blue-eyed guys. Not to mention that the hand was said to glow red when used. "I can be all over his artificial arm, should you wish so," I told Thrawn.

"That will not be necessary," he informed me politely.

Well, bother. "Retribution?"I asked.

"Also unnecessary." There was a short flash in his eyes as if he thought that sending me was in itself some divine retribution. "I heard you enquired after the Count of Gesl?"

Ah-ha! Changing the topic. I would make a mental not of that. If is still remembered when I left the room. Thrawn had a way to make me forget things he wanted and concentrate on something completely different, compare the ball incident. "I might."

"It was not the Count himself you heard of," Thrawn half mused, half stated.

"You would know that better than me," I just replied. Two could play that game, or so I told myself.

"So somebody related, unlike to be the cousin who inherited nothing but a feud with the sect. That leaves the vanished son as a likely possibility."

"Possible," I tried to keep my voice neutral.

"Which leads to the question where somebody with your education might have heard about both him and his connection to the Count. Seeing how both kept very silent about it at all times."

"They sure had their reasons," I added helpfully.

"There has been an armed robbery in the course of which the content of the Count's deposit box on Mygeeto was cleared out. You would not, by chance, want to connect those two?"

My mind raced. Thrawn was close enough already to get out the truth on his own. But did that mean I should make it easy for him? And what would the consequences be, if I did? Stolen money was no less stolen thirty years after the robbery.

"Rumour has it, that Republic Commandos were seen close to the crime scene."

"Well, they must have been real hard to spot with their white kit and all." I bit my lip.

"I will take it as a 'yes', since not so long after hidden but steady monetary flows stared to certain groups that have resurfaced lately." He was silent for a moment.

I was still biting my lip not sure if he was pulling my leg or if there should be something in this galaxy that I knew and he didn't. The mere idea put an uncontrollable grin on my face when suddenly the images around me changed into a gallery of Mandalorians. I stared and was not sure what to make of it. Knowing the approx colour scheme didn't help any because there was only that many colours but so much variation.

There was Jaing and I could also identify Kom'rk. But among all the green, blue and black, I was not sure I'd pick out the right Jango or Vau, let alone Boba. "Pretty," I commented.

"There was never any proof and though some of the stolen goods resurfaced, most is vanished until this day," Thrawn went on. "It was a very interesting case."

"But it's closed now?"

"Persecution has been dropped some time ago, if that is of any importance," he confirmed.

Though I was not sure, I just didn't want some late effects to hit the Skirata _aliit_. "The son might have returned to claim something that was his and used an unusual means to hide his traces."

He nodded. "Do you also know what was stolen from that box?"

I hesitated. But, as usual, Thrawn was unreadable. "I know about two blasters with pearl inlay, a brooch with a huge sapphire I think it was and, well, that's all I really know." I felt his gaze scrutinise me, but how could I tell him that Vau grabbed something that was personal to him when that was all I knew? I was not that stupid.

"The deeds to most of his property and almost everything movable of worth he owned was in that safe-deposit box. But that in itself is not what effected his fall." Thrawn looked at me as if he expected me to know what happened.

Well, I didn't. "What was?"

"The fact that he had promised it all to the sect he was following, specifically to their Covent of the Hallowed Heart. And they were not happy about this sudden loss. They cast him out because the retrieval would be taking a lot of time and they would not wait. It broke him."

I wondered if Vau had known. He might have been happy about those news, a nice side-effect on top of everything else. "Well, I would not care," I admitted.

"The wayward son then," Thrawn concluded.

I shrugged in admission. "Walon Vau," I added after being prompted repeatedly with pointed looks.

All images except for one blinked out and I found myself faced with the black on black armour of Mr. Walon Vau. I looked at it intently and was not sure if I was happy or disappointed that I could not see his face. "He considered it ironic that he returned a soldier when his father had forbidden him that career."

There was a non-committal noise from Thrawn. Then the images of the guests of the inauguration ball reappeared as if nothing had happened. So here we went round again. I glanced at Ken Krennel and sighed. Why had there not been more artists at SW with my taste in men.

It took some time to convince Thrawn that my progress was perfectly fine for half a day. My head only remembered so much, and why should I remember anything anyway, when he knew already. But he insisted and how can you say no to him?

„When did you intend to tell me how soon the inauguration ball is?" I demanded finally.

„Not at all. I considered you perfectly capable to find out on your own."

And again I was teetering on the edge between been utterly annoyed with him and somewhat pleased with the possible change of perception.

"I can see that your enthusiasm for the event is dropping," he said thoughtfully. "What about some kind of incentive?"

"Not necessary," I jumped over the 'sir' neatly and ignored the pointedly raised brow. "I will do my best."

"Because you owe me that?"

"No," I shook my head. "Because that is who I am and because I owe it to myself."

He flashed his eyes and almost a smile, then he nodded curtly. "Have adjutant Arn teach to to shoot with either hand, still."

I got a very queasy feeling right then and it didn't get better when Rukh appeared like a show out of the woodwork carrying a box. I took a step backwards as he opened it. I knew those blasters even though I had never seen them before. "You can't."

"Why not? Do you not believe they're original?"

"Unfortunately I believe that you can achieve anything should you set your mind to it," I gave back. That didn't make it any more right, though.

"Very good." He sounded genuinely appreciative. "Actually, they _are_ the originals. They appeared on the black market after Vau's death. Very recognisable as the stolen guns of the Count of Gesl, hot merchandise, nobody wanted them."

I took another step backwards.

Thrawn stayed utterly calm, steepling his fingers again. "Now to those three answer you owe me."

I wished I could have run, but there was nowhere to go. Hadn't I planned to think about those? Seems I had forgotten. Blast.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	139. 138

One-Hundred and Thirty-Eight

After standing frozen for a few seconds the situation did not improve any. I could not help but staring at Thrawn. He really liked to play his little games. I had been optimistic that the questions were forgotten at least for now. But no such luck. Bother.

I had to find some innocent wishes and pronto. But what _was_ there? "Peace?" I suggested tentatively.

"No, Mellanna," he reprimanded. "Selfish wishes."

I swallowed and nodded sheepishly. But I had to try. Now, selfish wishes, selfish wishes... what did my perfect life look like?

"I'd wish for the strength to take anything life threw at me without ever giving up or losing hope." Yep, that worked.

"I'd want to look back at the end of my life and be satisfied with what I have achieved." Old and wise, the all time favourite. But the last wish, the last wish - I inhaled slowly.

"I'd want mutual love that works and can be worked on because neither would ever give up his trust and love for the other."

There was no answer. The silence became solid enough to suffocate me.

"Dismissed," Thrawn finally said and I just wished he hadn't been do damned unreadable.

Then I was back with Seros but this time the focus lay on dancing. I appreciated. Man, he could dance. As if he had been doing this since - forever. Not that I could simply enjoy the fact and dance. Even a simple thing like the Core Waltz had subtle but important differences. Many core planets had their small variations they put a lot of emphasis on. Of course, I was to know them all.

"Since the man sets the variety of the dance, he will appreciate when you recognise the differences and act accordingly." Seros pulled the my index, middle and ring finger together while pushing the thumb and pinky to the sides. Placing the thumb over his shoulder, the three fingers pointing to his spine with the little finger pointing toward the floor.

"Talravin," I identified it. That earned me a nod and the next dance. Only that Seros was so damned good at dancing, that it was no trouble for him at all, and also not the slightest distraction, to go on lecturing me about the guests as we danced. I was not sure if my head spun from the many turns or the details I was to remember about counts, barons, Moffs and their ladies.

"Getelles," Seros prompted.

Sometimes I just wished he would make it easy on me. I had been reiterating CVs and characteristics for half a day now. Could I not do something else for a change? Obviously not. "Grand Moff of the Antemeridian Sector." I hesitated. "Old and married? Willing to take more power but unable to attain it on his own. Procedure is to garner his interest in the unification of the remaining Imperial groups under Thrawn's leadership. If offered more power he will likely follow."

"You need to brush up on the vita," he chided. "This is not a game that will forgive mistakes."

So it was a game? Darn. When I so didn't like playing parlour games. "I am sorry, sir," I apologised. "My head is spinning from all the information I want to cram into it."

He stopped abruptly. "Hands on experience then." He checked his chrono. "Let's have dinner."

I tired my best to smile and respond correctly to the way he was offering his arm. All those coreistocrats could got to hell as far as I was concerned. But I would get food and would learn how to eat properly using the knives, forks and spoons and assorted other instruments of torture. If I ever had a say in this, I'd introduce finger food.

It turned out to be not so bad. My brain seemed to have special memory abilities where food was concerned and I did so many things right that it almost felt like just having dinner. "So what do you do, when you're not being Imperial?" I asked.

"When I am not serving in the fleet, which is regrettably rare lately, but completely justifiable, I am the fourteenth Count of Leuka," Seros replied.

I almost choked on my food. Holy cow! Now that explained a lot. Of course, it also brought up a gazillion of new questions. I didn't even know where to start, but couldn't help eyes him closely. So this is what an Imperial count looked like. Should I be more impressed? It might explain his stick-up-the-ass attitude a little.

"Erm," I got got out feeling rather stupid. "Wow. I wondered how come you knew all this." I stopped myself just before insulting him by adding 'stuff'. He looked at me as if he had heard it anyway. What was it with people hearing things I didn't say? Didn't they know I refrained from saying them for a good reason? "And you get days off to attend to the important social events?"

He shook his head. "Of course not. My wife is representing the family, except on the rare occasion I have time."

So he was married, probably with kids. The stories you never heard about the Imperials you saw. I suddenly wondered what Arn was doing when he was not on chaperone duty. Knowing my luck, he'd be a part-time holonet star. "Is there much intrigue going on?" deciding to go right for the heart of prejudice.

"The Core is a place of intricate procedure," Seros replied. That was one way to describe it. "Navigating it demands care and attention to detail, but I have been lucky in such, that my wife feels more at home manipulating events within the family."

"Your children must have turned out great," I said remembering the manipulation and blackmailing of my own upbringing.

"They did," he agreed and sounded satisfied indeed. "My eldest daughter has become an accomplished lawyer with intergalactic corporation law, the second has turned to medicine while the third decided to build ships rather than man them. She joined Fondor Shipyards."

"You don't have any sons?" I was surprised because I would have expected him to have sons to put into the Imperial Navy.

"No, we do not have any sons. It was a conscious decision," he sounded a little wistful. "But seeing the Clone Wars and how the Empire never managed to bring everybody to peace we decided that no son of ours was to die in such fighting."

I didn't know what to say. The idea that other people's sons died for this fighting all the time did not seem to trouble him unduly. Hell, commanding other people's sons to die didn't trouble him. To think how that compared to my troubles sending what you could call a volunteer - I stopped myself. There just wasn't much common ground between the two of us.

"You never intended to have children?" he asked politely.

"Not as such," I admitted almost embarrassed. "There never seemed to be the right time or partner for it. And for a woman it is always entailing a however short discontinuity of the career."

"You have given your career precedence over family." That might have been disagreement with my decision.

"Yes, I wanted to be able to support myself independently of anybody else."

He measured me for a moment. "Now that did work out well."

To my credit I did not do an immediate headdesk or kick him under the table. Yes, he was right and this had so not worked out the way I had planned my life. I would blame suddenly popping up here for everything that went wrong. Ha, I had a very good excuse why I would not be an independent woman.

The one thing we had in common hit me right then: we were in this for good. No back doors, no escape route and not even looking for one. His Empire and mine, they were very different in conception, but we both were convinced.

I was reluctant to go to the shooting range, but it was not as if I had a choice. Rukh followed me silently, his hands empty. Whatever had been between him and Thrawn, they had cleared it up enough to cooperate again. I was not sure if that was good or bad.

"For somebody who just earned her first set of blasters you sure look grumpy," Arn greeted me. The offensive box was already sitting on the counter of my booth.

"I didn't earn them," I objected. "And I don't want them."

He laughed. "Not even I believe you there, Mel. Go ahead." He indicated the box.

Grumbling I went to the counter. Just because I wanted something that didn't make it right. and just because I got something I wanted that didn't make it any more right either. I glared at the box which was completely unimpressed by my efforts.

Finally, I walked towards it and opened the lid. Yep, those were two very showy blasters and I so got the mafia allusions. Those things boasted. They spelled out crime in huge, probably perforated, letters and they didn't care because they were well beyond prosecution. The inlay shimmered like mother of pearl. When I picked one up, it weighed almost nothing. It might be my earthy upbringing, bit I was used to weapons weighing something on account of them being made of metal.

It felt decidedly strange, even when I told myself not to think of it. Good weapons are like good ships, they outlive the owner and move one. Yah, think Firefly by Dyce. They could have been made from plastic, and there was no backstroke. It was like pointing your finger and saying 'bang'. And people fell dead like that. Considering the history of this thing, it was just what had been intended. Easy death, no consequences. It was wholly my fault that I felt this concept was worrying.

For all I ought to have said and have not said. I looked at Arn. "I'm sorry. I am scared by my current situation and the outlook is no less scary and then the past I never had crashes the past I did have and they don't add up and make me uneasy. It's different if it's fictional, because evil is just a word then."

For all I ought to have done and have not done. I threw the blaster up, catching it again and fired, neatly catching three Daves in the head.

For all I ought to have thought and have not thought. Putting the blaster down I nodded at Arn. "I have some things to consider because I need answers." Why was I so afraid? Because this is not fiction any more and evil is more than a word. And so was Thrawn.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	140. 139

One-Hundred and Thirty-Nine

Thinking had been difficult. I wanted to draw lines, separate what I knew from here from what I knew from then. But it was all so blurry. And I had arrived with such firm preconceptions. And they had played into everything I had said and done and maybe it was now more than too late to disentangle things.

Oh, I was sure the last of the questions would come up sooner or later. His Admiralship was not somebody to drop a subject like that. So I better find an answer he'd be happy with and that was close enough to the truth as to not stick out as incredible. The truth was - the truth was. I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath. The truth was I was afraid.

Okay, that was only the first step, but this was difficult. And it was obvious that the usual things scared me, like screwing up badly in front of important people, getting things wrong and making the galaxy explode by accident, getting things wrong and Luke and his friends killed because of that. Making things generally worse so the Vong invasion would be a good measure to clean up the mess behind me.

But those were only the normal fears, the regular things that scared you in life. You didn't want to fail, you wanted to do a good job, you wanted to live up to expectations put in you. It has always harangued me, no matter what I was doing. So it was nothing new. Only the objectives had changed. Talk smoothly to the nobs instead of sell something to the customers. Learn the customs of the Core instead of those of the company. Shoot straight instead of write a good update.

But Thrawn scared me, too. In a way I didn't want to put a finger on. The fiction and reality mix up was, if not at the centre of it, very close. I did not know what was real. There was this Thrawn template in my head, and try as I might, it was about impossible to dislodge. And that was the heart of it. Ah the hart- and music is the foot of love. I wished for my best friend to disentangle the mess or at least make adequately fangirly and crazy comments about it.

But there was nothing to be fangirly about it. And that was just the problem. It was all real. And no, he was not a nice person. The words calculating, and controlled came to mind followed and overtaken by manipulating and unreadable and probably ruthless. Intimidating, that was something I could vouch for with first-hand experience. Intelligent, how could I forget about that one? Probably because it was a vast understatement and the association with sexy wouldn't leave my head.

All in all it was impossible to see how all that should amount to - desirable, except from the point of view of fiction. Yah, for fiction he was pretty perfect, the calm, mysterious kind who was always a step ahead. But for real life that was all wrong. Things had to be different when it was real; I was sure of that, certain, there was no doubt. And yet there was Thrawn.

I was grateful when my spinning mind spun on without me and I dropped into the black well of sleep. Sometimes sleeping is the best way to escape life. But like all other escapes it was finite.

So I got my sorry butt, and even more sorry head, out of bed again and tried to get one gracefully across the dancefloor while the other remembered things. Somehow I kept mixing them up though, or so it felt. Seros did not complain; he corrected. And kept correcting, as if he'd never tire of it. Maybe he didn't. Maybe this was some kind of reminiscent of teaching his own daughters. Or, since he had been serving, most likely _not_ teaching them.

Arn corrected me as well, though the new blasters seemed to be good for my aim. The grip sure felt different in my hand. Still I had the feeling that the inlay prickled against my palm, trying to get away from such an unaristocratic hand as mine. Papa Gesl would not be happy, that would have to suffice.

For the first time training with the squad was rather boring. I only got to see Fi and he only showed me how to use a fake knife. There was a lot of repetition of movements and even more correcting them. The fact that I could not go half a minute of the day without having something about me corrected should have bothered me more, but with an incredibly formal inauguration ahead, it was a somewhat necessary evil.

For reasons I didn't want to explore is was most easily acceptable coming from Thrawn. There was no table set when I arrived the next time. All this preparation for the inauguration seemed to have cut any meetings with Dave out of the current schedule. I wondered if I should give him a call. I had almost forgotten abut it when I came out of the meeting again, my head crammed full of important inaugurational procedure. I had no idea why anybody should vie to be admitted to it.

After spending some time at my dancing lessons, I got an inkling of it. The whole event should be reasonably fun, provided your partner did not lecture you about the other guests on the dance floor. Or, depending on his field of expertise, it might be hilarious. I was not sure I should wish for that. I was good enough at putting my foot in it without help.

When I finally got to my quarters, I sat down on the bunk and stared at the wall for a bit, my pad clutched in my hands. I had no idea why I felt I should call Dave. There had been a reason and I had impressed on myself to remember it. I could ask Rukh, I was sure he knew what it had been. I stared at my pad. That was, because he had been there.

An image flashed before my inner eye that had me huddled up on the ramp of the _Liberty_. So that was it. I kept staring at my pad. Finally I called, prayed that there would be no answer and was disappointed. He was somewhere with a grey bulkhead behind him. That might have been anywhere. He didn't look surprised, or as if he had been doing anything. But I knew he had because he had no use of free time.

"Hi." Stroke of genius if I ever had seen one.

"Ms. Morrison." Now that hurt. What happened to Mellanna?

"I wanted to apologise," I began.

"It's okay," he interrupted glancing to the side. So he was doing something. "Adjutant Arn has explained the situation. We will take up the project again once your current assignment is finished." He didn't make even the slightest pause before assignment.

I wondered if he saw everything ion terms of military procedure. He just might. He was so far, and when I wished he was closer it felt - practised. There was guilt, surprise and resignation mixing with disbelief and sadness all of a sudden. I had imagined to spend the rest of my life with him. But that was just it. I had a pretty big imagination. And apart from the two real guys I had tried that with, there was a long list of characters, mine and otherwise, that had suffered the same fate.

"Are you alright?" his voice broke through my thoughts.

I took a moment and thought about it. "As much as I have always been," I admitted. Which might not be very much of right. "Thank you," I added fishing for the right words. There were none. "Just thank you." I smiled and cut the connection.

I felt very lonely suddenly. Pinching the bridge of my nose I put the pad back into the terminal. I had no time to pity myself. And actually, right now, I really had no reason to.

I kept telling myself that as I got ready for bed, as I pulled the blanket over my head and right again when I got up and through the next day. If you tell yourself often enough, I had heard, it became true. I kept wishing, truth would hurry up.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	141. 140

**Thank you Shakatan.**  
I am unable to find said spelling mistake, if you would mind pointing it out more clearly so I can take care of it?  
And thank you for the comments. Always! If this story sees its intended conclusion some day, it will partly thanks to you support.

* * *

One-Hundred and Forty

After several days, it had still not become true. I felt as detached as I hadn't for quite some time. It was a little like watching myself from outside, only with me still inside. Maybe it was also a bit like being on speed. For the moment I was very much where I was, concentrating on what I did and making a good impression of it. But once I was at something else whatever it was I had done seemed far away, unreal and hard to remember.

Of course, that was not going to fly. I needed to remember all names, all approaches and plans for everybody invited. And I did. Not consciously, but the way I remembered everything learnt by heart for a purpose: with triggers. Confronted with a face or a name all the facts sprang up from my memory. That was convenient, because it didn't clutter my head when not needed. Not that this happened a lot. I was still handed around from lesson to lessen with almost breaks for food.

There was no dinner with Thrawn which was worrying me. One the one hand, it would have worried me to have another because being alone with his Admiralship unguarded by military procedure made me queasy. The _lor'kina_ worked fine as a shield against everybody else, but Thrawn kept throwing bits of it at me that - made me queasy. That was his party and he sure enjoyed it.

The _Chimera_ was on her way to Yaga Minor already. Not that you could have told. Maybe I just didn't notice because I never took much notice of where the ship was going any given time. Space looked pretty much the same everywhere, especially, if all you saw all day long was grey bulkheads. Or faces of people you didn't know.

"A change of plans on short notice," Thrawn informed me. "A representative of the Empire of the Hand will attend."

The image of an unfamiliar man sprang up before me. He had short dark hair, a neatly trimmed beard and an amazing looking blonde companion. If it had not been for the woman, I might have guessed Parck still. I cast a questioning glance at Thrawn.

"Baron Soontir Fel." He raised a brow to indicate I should have known.

Well, bother. The name rang a bell somewhere in the depths of my memory. "Pilot," I guessed, "or former pilot." Thrawn's look said clearly that he found my lack of information disturbing. But I really couldn't remember anything else. "You'll have to enlighten me." I couldn't make myself add his name, but at least I didn't add a 'sir'. I sure was improving.

"I find it interesting that you should not know of him," Thrawn said.

"I can't know everything," I replied.

"Unfortunately, that is true." Thrawn started with a lengthy recapitulation of Baron Fel's life, and only when he got to the side-switching and Antilles-marrying I realised he was actually giving me the short version. The man had come around. And he had changed sides more than once. And he was still with Thrawn's Empire.

Noticing I chewed my lip I forced myself to say something. "Well, at least he'll be happy that seeing the in-laws will get easier now."

"If they will see him."

"Why shouldn't they?"

"Because he is a traitor."

"To what?" I asked before stopping to think.

"I would like to hear your answer to that," Thrawn replied almost thoughtful.

I bet he did. It sure depicted some of my more creative justification mechanisms. "Well," better not think about the explanation as well. "He fought to establish peace and justice in the galaxy. And when he realised that Palpatine was not on the same track of justice as he was, he decided to join with those who did. Only then you had him abducted. And when he found out what's out there, he realised that, squabble about justice as the factions might, it would be worse if there were no more factions because they had all been wiped out. So he stayed."

"An interesting argument, though it won't hold up before any court."

Well, no it wouldn't. But at least Mr. Fel could still face the man he saw in the mirror without guilt, or disgust. Or so I hoped. "It won't have to, will it?" I couldn't imagine Thrawn letting a man he had put such effort into getting pulled before some kind of court or other. What people thought would always be a mystery to me, so I didn't try to figure that out.

"He is a man with a profound sense of duty," Thrawn said. "You should get along very well."

I decided not to answer to that. Somehow, I felt I was getting along less well with dutiful people. I only had to think of Rukh to feel guilty. Thinking of Dave made me feel guilty in more than one way. His sense of duty had me stumped. His commitment was absolutely adorable and amazing, but not comprehensible. "A'rare." I couldn't think of anything else to say.

The was a short flash in Thrawn's eyes. "I will leave you to figure out the other surprise guest at your leisure." Should I worry? "I do not think she will have much to do with you."

She? Now he got me curious. Or worried. Both. Great. I pocketed the datacard he handed me. I turned to leave.

"One last thing."

I hated when he did that. But I turned around, all duty. Whereas Thrawn was focussed on - well, I was not sure if I could call the ball leisure. Seeing the agenda in my head, I decided I could not. I had seen images of the full dress awaiting me and it had looked formal and a tad uncomfortable. The same could not be said about the dress that had appeared from nowhere.

The gown was - blue. Amazing, incredibly beautiful or stunning would have done as well, but it was the colour that caught my attention. I knew that colour in all shades of lighting. Okay, make that almost all shades.

"Beautiful, isn't it."

I could only nod. "You should find a girl to do it justice."

There was a short silence before he replied. "You'll do."

Well, I'd have to. I approached the gown slowly. The folds of the skirt fell smoothly to the ground, soft, irresistible to touch. So I didn't resist and let my fingers run over the fabric which was light ans still completely opaque. The top was plain except for a band of flowers of whitework embroidery which reminded me of violets. A stole was sewed to the back in a way that it could also double as shawl.

I just hoped it'd still look as amazing with me inside it. With some luck its beauty would distract from the wearer quite nicely.

"Officer Seros will instruct you in the use of the stole," Thrawn informed me. It would have been too easy if it had been only for show. Then he held up a light set of straps of unknown use. My inner fangirl went wild with ideas I all rejected immediately "DV-565 will teach you to get to your knife without getting entangled in the skirt."

I took the harness that was untangling itself into a holster for my thigh. "Thank you." I stopped myself before another 'sir' slipped out.

"I still heard that," he chided.

"Sorry." I blushed. "I am doing my best - Thrawn." Why was that so difficult? "I am really working on it."

"I expect to see no slips like that tomorrow.."

Oh yeah. Him and me both.

"That leaves only one last question unanswered." Well, it really would have been too nice if he had forgotten. But he never did, and neither had I this time. Even if all well worded answers were old and only remembered partly right now.

"I don't know who you are," I replied. "And I am not sure who I am anymore, either."

There was a smile.

And there was silence.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	142. 141

One-Hundred and Forty-One

For once I really wished for a fairy godmother with a silly wand, silly invocations and that silly 'poof, instant beauty' effect. Having several people work on your hair, face, hands and - why, oh why? - feet was not an experience I wished to repeat.

The tugging, pulling and poking seemed to go on forever. I used the time to repeat names, faces and proper greetings in my head over and over again. I had to be perfect. Fat chance. Damned.

Before I could worry about that some more I was shoved into the dress and ushered out of my quarters. Arn, looking gorgeous in full dress did some chaperoning and led me through the corridors. He kept patting my hand soothingly. I was not sure it improved the situation any.

At least my feet felt great. The high heels fit perfectly and made adorably clicking noises on the hard floors. But my mouth was dry and my hands shaking, even as I held on to Arn. The desperate wish for a blaster, lethal danger and tricky command decisions came up but did not materialise.

Instead Thrawn materialised, in full dress, complete mess dress and honorary get-up. Gawk!

White uniforms had made an impression on me as early as watching Sissi* for the first time. There seemed to be few white uniforms around, but if there was an idea of a white uniform as Plato had postulated, Thrawn was wearing it. Gawk indeed.

He was absolutely impeccable, golden buttons shone about as bright as the sun; I was sure the reason they were only worn in full dress was their blinding effect. Bullion epaulettes were ready, but no, I would not scratch my cheeks on them as was their purpose because this was Thrawn and not Jean-Baptiste*.

But it was not only the uniform, tinsel and all but - everything, hair, face hands - as if somebody had taken the time to sculpt the idea of Thrawn and drop it before my feet. He looked like - wow.

"I would appreciate a less stunned expression on your face, Mellanna." That modulated voice again. I had been missing that, though I was not sure why. It seemed to be reserved for official business. Maybe the utter control of his articulation was just - gah! I slapped my inner fangirl over the head hard. She had no business popping up right now.

She had tried, more than once, to do so during the formal inauguration. Now that had been a very stiff procedure with long speeches and so many men in uniforms that she had at least been kind enough to drool not only over his Admiraship. Given the chance to separate from me, she'd probably jumped the bones of more attendants than I could count on my fingers.

I had been standing with a small delegation from the _Chimera_. Pellaeon looked to formal to be called, Pelly. I could not remember having seen the other faces except for Arn, and if they remembered seeing me, they didn't show. I might have been made of thin air. Okay, not so thin air. They ignored me without making it look conscious. The rest of the guests did pretty much the opposite. I did not seem to fit any pattern.

There were no civilians present. Well, apart from me. There were also no other Grand Admirals present which made it very easy to spot Thrawn any time. Not that he needed much spotting seeing how he was up on the dais for the really important people. After some decorum, speeches and time consuming procedure, Deerian entered from the side of the dais accepted with a long speech and thanked all and sundry for their trust and attendance. He would make a great politician, because he managed all that without sounding the least bit insincere or sarcastic.

There was polite applause of many gloved hands. Even I had gloves, black, soft and hindering my showing appreciation by dulling the sound of my clapping. More speeches had followed and what looked like complicated handing over of significant regalia. I had almost jumped at the bright red full dress following Krennel to the dais. It took a few heartbeats to discern that, as it was, the shade of red was a tad off the Mitth family colour.

Thrawn had hinted at a connection between Isard and Krennel. Maybe it was a bit stronger than anticipated. I was thinking in stories again, and shipping those two - ugh. I really should think about something else. At which moment my inner fangirl had happily offered her services and had begun to scan the uniformed masses again.

"Uh, sure," I finally managed to get out. I hoped my face followed that optimistic assessment and looked less stunned. Though, even if it did, that didn't last long. Arn had taken the chance to vanish. Instead Deerian arrived with a beautiful woman at his side. I sure was gaping again. She was tall, held herself incredibly straight and had steel grey hair arranged in a simple but effective way on her head. Her dress was something between grey and light blue, matching her hair, eyes and Deerian's uniform at the same time. Remembering Thrawn's admonishment, I gathered my jaw from the floor and tried to look dignified.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn." Deerian inclined his head. "Ms. Morrison."

Because I didn't know what else to to, I indicated a curtseys. That was obviously correct enough since nobody corrected me and the woman, who Deerian introduced as Riema Saedrin, did the same. I rattled down her CV in my head, but it was something else entirely to have the magnate stand before me. She didn't look intimidating which was a sure sign of how powerful she was.

On a sign I must have missed we turned towards the double doors ahead. Oh gods, this was where I was not to make a fool of anybody around me. I couldn't remember the last time I had been so scared. This was worse than death, because once you're dead you don't have to face people who by then knew the colour of your knickers since you had rolled head over heels down the stairs.

I took a deep breath.  
I swallowed.  
I made a point of relaxing my death grip on Thrawn's arm.  
And then the double doors opened.

I was an anticlimax if I had ever seen one. We stepped onto a sparsely populated gallery. Broad stairs led into the actual ball room below on each side, and I felt terror at the mere thought of having to go down one of those. Not that it could be helped any. But for now, I had little chance to embarrass anybody. I picked out a radiant smile and tried to walk beside his Admiralship as if I did this every other day.

From the corner of my eye I watched Deerian and Saedrin who came to a stop beside us facing the assembled guests. Taking my hint from the security magnate, I let go of Thrawn's arm, managing not to tumble to the side, roll down the stairs and show my knickers. Yay. Go, me. I wondered who was going to have the first word and what sign that would send when a young man in a very plain uniform stepped into the gap wisely left by us.

He didn't cough. He didn't do anything much but the guests fell silent immediately. "The Leader of the Empire, Commander in Chief of the military Forces, Grand Admiral Thrawn..." I let my eyes wander over the assembly, spotting Krennel who looked not really happy and many faces mirroring this sentiment. "...and Moff Deerian of Yaga Minor."

Saedrin and I obviously didn't warrant an introduction. The moment stretched into the unbearable until the guys decided that they could now move on. I managed to get down the broad stairs without falling and pulling Thrawn into destruction with me. If his skin hadn't been blue already, I was sure that bruises would have showed up formed like my fingerprints on his arm the following days.

So far I had managed to ignore the stares; I hadn't thought there'd be so many of them. That tells everything about my thinking capability. Of course everybody wanted to know who his Admiralship would show up with. The questions were almost audible as we arrived at the end of the stairs. I allowed myself a small sigh of relief.

At least we didn't have to open the ball. This honour fell on Deerian, newly inaugurated Moff of Yaga Minor on his way to oversee the whole Braxant sector whether he knew about it or not. Whether he liked it or not. But for once I wholeheartedly agreed with Thrawn's plans. Maybe that had me in a lenient mood when his Admiralship led me to the dance floor.

It was difficult not to feel exposed. The eye is drawn to whatever is moving and since Deerian had been moving for a while already diversion was welcome. Not to mention I had a face unknown to almost everybody here and was of keen interest to all and any political schemer present. And then there was only the soft fabric of the uniform under my hand, almost creamy, warmer than my hand naturally. And the other caught in a resolute grip, and didn't I hate the gloves on full dress suddenly?

The thought appeared in my head some time as I turned on the dance floor. It didn't feel like dancing with Dave. It was reminiscent of dancing with Toris. There was no doubt who was in the lead and there was also no escape from the firm hold. I could feel the subtle movement of muscle under my left hand. I could have done this with my eyes closed. I fought the temptation valiantly, but still a smile crept to my lips.

I was such a goner. Okay, so I could not remember the last time somebody had laid a hand on my back when not in combat training. What I did remember was repeatedly curling up with my back against the bulkhead. When the dance was suddenly over - before I had realised that others had joined us and the dance floor was pretty full and Thrawn left me in the company of studied strangers - I felt unaccountably lonely. I really was a goner. But I had no time for that. I did not even really throw a last wistful glance at the retreating white back before turning to Saedrin.

"There are several hundred guests in this room dying to ask you some questions, Ms. Morrison," she smiled. "Would you like to disappoint them for a bit longer?"

I couldn't help but smile back. "I'd love to, Ms. Saedrin. Even if that means that you will get your answers before them all."

"I should have a lot less of them since Deerian had the grace to tell me what he deducted. And I do have a head of my own to use." She began to walk away from the dance floor. "A full glass in the hand should keep you from dancing for a while."

I let myself be monopolised by Saedrin for a while, watching the crowd eddy by. She was a nice enough person when running in professional company mode. I thawed up my small talk skills and felt better after my glass of punch, even though it had been unspiked. Oh yeah, a whole unspiked evening ahead.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

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Find an image of Prince Franz in my photobucket. photpbucket - wuehlkuschler - Miscallaneous  
There's also one of Jean Baptiste Bernadotte - read 'Desiree' for further information.


	143. 142

**Two Notes:**

1) Thanks to **crystalfeathers**. I reread all comments recently and found something that was incredibly helpful there. Arigatou. :D  
Even should you not find it again in this update.

2) Gosh, I never thought the day would come when somebody noticed I did not update in time. I apologise and can only say that I got stuck in a beach resort out in la-la-land without a connection since Thursday. I hope I am not too late to appease offended minds. ^.^'

* * *

One-Hundred and Forty-Two

It was the newly inaugurated Moff Deerian who ended my time-out. "I feel that congratulations are in order," I smiled as I placed my hand on his arm in a very simple but obviously core-ish way. Seros' lessons paid off indeed.

"From you they will be one of the very few honest ones," he replied, smiling as well.

"You are a good choice for the job."

"I cannot help but note the absence of a superlative," he commented drily. "From you I would have expected a 'perfect' at least."

"No, not perfect," I conceded. Deerian came from Cal-Seti and I made sure my fingers reflected that.

The smile reached his eyes. "Impeccable, Ms. Morrison. You have obviously been prepared better for this then the last ball. I shall make a note of inviting you more often."

"I just wouldn't go and buy a house here," I advised. Thrawn knew me and if he didn't instruct not to spill the news I might just go ahead and tell Deerian about it. Even if it was in clouded words.

"That is good to know, even if it is not so good to know about this only now." His smile never faltered. He would indeed be a very good politician.

"You suspected."

"I am a little on the old side for sudden promotions." He sounded almost tired.

"And still you are who you are," I told him. "At your age and in service of the Empire the whole time. If there is anybody better qualified for such a job I have not met them yet."

"You are aware of the amount of treason within those words?" he asked.

"I am, and so is Thrawn." For a moment I simply enjoyed the dance. "And I hear Bastion is a nice place to live any time of the year."

He gave me a long hard look. "So you have heard." There was a long silence as the tune dwindled to an end. "I am now almost not sorry to hand you over to the sharks." He winked.

"It is my duty and I shall do it with a smile, showing all the teeth I have."

"I shall be watching that with interest."

He left me at the side of the dance floor. I watched as he picked the next woman to dance with and wondered what to do next. Not that I had to. From all sides uniformed men were suddenly vying for a dance with me. It was an experience completely new for me and a bit scary. My usual approach would have been first-come-first-served, but seeing how I was here in a politically motivated game of chess by Thrawn I didn't. And I didn't sigh about it.

Instead I tried to feel flattered by such concentrated male attention and when I spotted Moff Getelles in the crowd I made what was hopefully a good move in accepting his offer first.

"Miss Morrison," he almost purred in appreciation. "I am honoured."

"The honour is all mine," I returned smiling. If I could charm him now, he's be one backstabber less. And that was good. Because I really didn't need any more trouble than I had. Especially since he threw me a wrench by taking hold of me in a decidedly un-core-ish way but chose to use Antemeridian's poise. After all he was Moff of the sector and why should he not show pride in that? Never faltering, I placed my hand on his shoulder accordingly, sending special thanks to Seros who had made sure I was prepared for small affronts like this.

"I must admit that I am a little surprised to find the Grand Admiral in such charming company," he said, ignoring my correct response to his little game.

"He is more than capable to obtain whatever he deems necessary," I smiled back. Getelles turned out to be a good dancer. Actually, everybody did, like they had been on a school for scheming Imperial officers with a focus on good manners and impeccable social abilities.

"Ah," he replied, stretching the sound. "So he is. And what are your special qualification in this?" He was being direct and I was not sure what to make of it.

But then, I didn't really have to worry. His Admiralship had let me lose on this crowd, so I was perfectly capable to handle it the way he wished. I smiled genuinely. "I can dance."

"And you look stunning."

I stifled the laughter bubbling up in my throat. "Doing my best, sir," was all I managed. Outright flattery would get him nowhere, but he didn't have to know that. I had always been more partial to less flamboyant but more truthful compliments. "Can I take it that you are enjoying yourself?"

"It is a rare occasion and set up with such a sense of tradition."

"It is, isn't it," I changed gears onto political sweet-talking, if there was such a thing. And Getrelles, I kept being distracted by that huge moustache of his, liked to be flattered and made to feel important. That was not so difficult, because in a way he was. Every little bit helped. I left him a happy Moff assured in his importance and with plans of rising to more power in the wake of Thrawn if he played his cards right. He congratulated himself on being such a charmer and making me talk unguardedly about some very interesting future projects. He felt certain that he could meddle some in them and gain advantages.

I was almost disappointed at how easy it had been. But it turned out that even Imperial Moffs, counts and assorted others were just men. And I was a flashy accessory. At least that is how they treated me. All of them excellent dancers, and perfect gentlemen of small talk. And so sure of themselves. For a while I just enjoyed the evening and dropped hints all over the place. The well-disposed choice of partners was destined to end some time.

And then it did. I was returned to the edge of the dance floor to find nobody waiting to sweep me right off again. I did not object, because my feet felt like lava and I was dying of thirst. Since nobody seemed inclined to stop me, I made my way to the buffet. A uniformed waiter handed my a glass of sparkling something without looking twice. After a sip I decided that it had too much alcohol to be ingested by me like that. I would become all heady and reckless.

Perusing the displayed food, I showed my usual skill at being - well my usual careless self. I bumped, or almost bumped, I don't think he would have forgiven me had I really, anyway Ken Krennel. Delak, I corrected myself quickly, I could not afford mistakes. "Well, hello there," I beamed at him with a smile twelve parsecs wide. "And here I was thinking you were avoiding me, Prince-Admiral Krennel."

There was not much he could now, at least not much that would point him out to be a crude social upstart and nowhit. He knew it; I could see that in his eyes beyond his smile. "Ms. Morrison," he replied politely. "I was under the impression you were busy enjoying yourself."

"I _am_," I emphasised. "I have never been to an inauguration ball before."

"Or any ball," he replied being borderline impolite.

I wrecked my brain to see what balls lingered in my past. There were deplorably few of them and those sported a blatant lack of hobnobbery. "Not on this scale," I finally conceded. "I am sorry if my enthusiasm is offensive."

He noted how I did not apologise for that, though. He brought up his prosthetic hand and as courtesy demanded I put down my food (which was a sacrifice in itself as only just acquired and not even tasted yet) to offer him my right. The metal felt slightly cold and almost tickled as he raised my hand to his lips in a very old and probably outdated gesture.

I couldn't help but grin like a maniac. Sorry, sir, this kind of intimidation did not work on me one bit. The biggest challenge I faced was not to stare at the moving bits, not to mention poking my fingers into the mechanics to explore how they worked.

Krennel seemed a little put out by my lack of proper scare and/or disgust. Maybe he was even a little intrigued against better judgement. I sure was getting the hang of this. Poor him. I still grinned.

"I was about to take a break and a snack," I told him, seeing from the corner of my eye how an overzealous waiter took terminal care of my plate. Great.

"You seem to have lost your dinner," Krennel commented.

"Fortunately not in an embarrassing way," I replied.

Krennel looked at me for a moment as if he was not quite sure what I was doing. Maybe he was not, he was supposed to be straightforward about problems and preferred to crush them instead of - well everything else that would come to mind. I hoped I looked uncrushworthy to him. "I'd be happy if you joined me for a bit," I volunteered. I might as well be straightforward myself.

"You would count that as a victory, wouldn't you?" He looked down at me.

So that was his problem. "I think nothing short of getting you to to take to the floor with me would count on that scale." I decided not to think about any connotations of the expression I might have missed just now. Krennel looked at me as if he did that for the two of us. "I mean dance?"

He raised on brow and I decided to huff. "Why the insistence?" he wanted to know.

"I'd like to hear your rationalisations for the anti-alien sentiment."

"And change my point of view." His tone was derisive.

"Don't be silly, Prince-Admiral," I grinned. "Belief is chiselled in stone. There's nothing I can do about what you chose to believe. But I can try to understand how come."

"What good would that be to you?" He was suspicious now.

"I believe that knowledge is power. So knowing why you believe what you believe should give me some kind of power." I bit my lip for a moment. "Not that I would know what to effect with it." I stared at the buffet.

"I wonder what you are really thinking right now," Krennel said soberly.

I glanced at him. "Truth? Though I don't think you'll like it." I sighed. "I am wishing I had been born with three arms. Because I cannot hold my glass and a plate and put food on it at the same time. This is a nuisance, because I am hungry. And third arms do not grow on trees."

The was a pause as he stared at me disbelief on his features.

I shrugged, blushing slightly. "I said you wouldn't like it."

He picked up a plate and stacked some food on it. "You are interesting enough for a parvenu."

"Funny that you should say that to me." He froze and slowly turned to look at me. "But maybe it is not getting up the social ladder that concerns you, but doing the getting yourself? I am afraid there was no mistress of the Grand Admiral available to strangle. I apologise."

I sure had his attention now. "Does the Grand Admiral know?"

"I didn't tell him." And that was the truth because even if I had told somebody during my drugged examinations that had not been Thrawn. "And I won't. I don't care where you come from. I am only interested in where you are going."

He pointed to the far side of the room. "That would be the free table over there."

I took his arm and followed. It was a nice break from the usual political chatter because I didn't intend to try to change Krennel any. He was doing secret business with Isard and he didn't like Thrawn one bit. All I could do was - well, I had no idea. Sway him with my female guile. I almost giggled at the thought. At some point he left and I put the stole over my shoulders signalling I was trying to eat in peace.

Accordingly the only visitors I got were those who wanted a small chat and be gone before polite procedure caught up with them and forced them into bigger concessions to the Grand Admiral's piece of pretty. Suppressing the urge to hum a song from Evita I returned to my dancing duties after the longest time it had ever taken me to eat anything. I didn't like to put eating into the service of politics.

Isard never got closer to me than two meters. She really avoided me. Nothing to be done. She was playing the game of complications and that was not my field. I also did not spot his Admiralship again for the whole evening. I began to be rather put out with him. Was that any way to behave? I was getting tired and Saedrin was nowhere to be seen.

I was ready to do the unthinkable and sit down with a huff. A lot of people seemed to have left already. If I had known how to get back, I might just have left. But the idea to have to ask somebody for my way back was even worse than standing around. I took to checking off the list of people I should have talked to against those I did talk to and danced with and came up with a favourable tally. And another thought.

My face was known now. I could not blend in and become one of the unknown millions anymore. Thrawn had made a point and a claim at the same time. This is my asset, he declared in loud deeds and there was nothing I could do. Maybe I could not have done anything even had I it seen coming. But once again, I had not. Before I could start to be put out all over again, his Admiralship deigned to return. Deerian was beside him until he veered off, probably to where Saedrin was.

"How considerate of you to wait for my return," Thrawn said taking my arm and to the floor again. Even if I had had the mind to protest it would have been unthinkable. Oh yes, he sure was making a point here. I entertained the fantasy of kicking his shin in public for a while. But it was too late now. The memo was out and whatever else, I was sure off limits. I felt tired suddenly. Cold, disappointed and unhappy followed as they always did when I was overtired.

"Countenance," he chided me softly.

I complied, though that didn't make me feel any better.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	144. 143

**NOTE:**  
I changed the cover for the story on a whim. Okay, on fiding THE Thrawn pic that shaped my image of him most of all on the net again. If you should feel so inclined, check it out and tell me which version you like better. Both are now linked in my profile.

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One-Hundred and Forty-Three

Sulking proved to be difficult when you were dancing with one determined Grand Admiral who was focussed not only on your countenance, but also your mood. "What commenced the sudden change in temper?" he wanted to know.

"I am just overtired, sir," I replied, showing just how tired I really was with this slip. Luckily I had said it very softly.

"I see."

For a moment I pondered the possibility of sleep-dancing but it seemed just too impossible. The same was true for my fangirl's Idea of getting swept off her feet and carried away by his Admiralship while happily nodding off with her head on his shoulder. Of course that presumed he wouldn't just collapse under my weight. That image put a genuine smile on my face.

"'A penny for your thoughts' I take is the correct linguistic offer in cases like this," Thrawn said. "But seeing the scope of your smile, I doubt a penny would be adequate payment."

I grinned even more. "That's right, -" I bit down on the last word hard. "But I doubt you'd find it amusing."

He raised an immaculate brow, telling me to let him be the judge of that. Fat chance. I shook my head slightly.

"But I must insist." He sounded like a Victorian novel.

Of course I appreciated immediately and unthinkingly and started to wonder how to phrase my answer. "I was calculating the force necessary to effect elevation of my entity and results of rather rash and inaccurate implementation."

There was a tell-tale flicker in his eyes and I suddenly wished very much I had lied. Why hadn't that occurred to me? "And, of course, you immediately came to the wrong conclusions as you are want to do."

"Possibly." I shrugged. There was no way in hell I'd find out about that now. The realisation was comforting. I wondered if there was something I would want to find out. In a way this was the perfect opportunity because he could not go anywhere. He caught me looking at him which made me look away again quickly. There must be something I should ask. I was pretty certain of that.

Before I made up my mind the music came to an end. Scattered applause was audible from gloved and ungloved hands. I found mine among the latter. And then people started to disperse among polite well wishing. Attached to Thrawn's arm, I got through the motion just fine. Before I knew we were on our way back through the corridors of the Moff's palace on Yaga Minor.

We walked in silence. I didn't know how to start my string of questions. It felt embarrassingly wrong, especially since it started of with things like: When is your birthday? He escorted me all the way back to my room. I felt my feet more painfully with each step, but would not show. I've had worse. There was that one very awkward moment with nothing but the open door between us when I wondered - well, no. That was out of the question.

"Sleep well." He nodded and left.

I closed the door, leant against it with a sigh and freed myself of the shoes. There was more sighing when I put the burning soles down against the cool tiles of the floor. Heaven would be like this. I stood, enjoying the receding pain and looking at the bed before me. A real bed, duvets and all. I was tempted to just drop onto it face first and sleep.

But I was wearing a dress that was amazing and didn't deserve to be treated like this. I reached for the zipper at the back. And reached again. And then I tried to reach it from below. It stayed unattainable. Well, bother. Where were maids (or fairy godmothers) when you really needed them. I jumped around a bit which didn't help and pushed my elbow down so I could reach a bit lower which didn't help either. What a way to end a night like this.

I was losing my balance backwards, when the door suddenly opened.

"You should lock it," a calm voice said. And a palm steady me while he opened the zipper down to the small of my back! "Next time I will arrange for a maid to be available at your return."

I was ready to spring into action, unsure if I'd hit him over the head (I had nothing in my hand to make it effective!) or just let my inner fangirl finish the job, when the door clicked shut again. Very slowly I lowered my arm from its now very ridiculous position. Then I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly with my eyes closed. When that was done, I turned around and locked the door. And leant against it shaking my head trying to think which didn't work but that was fine because I was going to bed now anyway, wasn't I?

I put the gown over a chair because it stood on my way to the bed and then just fell into it face first as imagined. It was heaven, too. The mattress was soft, yielding and the duvets were fluffy and warm and if I had not been lying on them and been so tired, I would have curled up under them into a happy ball of bliss. As it was, I just blacked out.

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_I was still dancing, turning and turning in the ballroom lit with candles and the envious faces of the crew. It felt good. I felt good. A little tipsy from the turning but the movement was enthralling._

_"Everything is possible," Q smiles at me. And with a snap of his fingers everything vanishes. We are dancing in the void of space, only stars lighting up the blackness._

_... and dance on Saturn's rings... the melody sweeps through my mind. As if he heard it, they appear under us. Millions of rocks and boulders, asteroids of any size and we still turn. But I feel fear rise up in me. "Don't let go," I beg as gravity pulls at me._

_"Too late." His mischievous grin is just as I remember. But I do not fall. I am clutching at his lapels. I am not going down and then I look into his eyes._

_"Well, well," he smirks, "look who's acting."_

_But I am pulling both of us down. The asteroids scrape along my feet until they burn like fire but we are still sinking slowly. A huge boulder rolls up, pressing against my leg, tearing me away from him, and the lapels tear slowly and I have nothing to hold on to but the asteroid which pushes me down._

I sat up looking around and not knowing where I was. Then I remembered - ball, bed. And the pressure against my leg was but the knife, still strapped to my thigh in its holster. Wearily I reached down and unstrapped it. And while I was at it, I got under the duvets and put the knife under the pillow. I could not remember the last night I slept under duvets. I tried to think of home, but it was so far away, duvets and all.

I knew I should be more upset, more worried and for sure more attached to my old life. But right then, I was only more tired. And In temporary possession of a complete bed.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

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**Note**:

Specualtion on my homeboard as to Thrawn's reason to hang around has cooked up a completeley useless AU PWP scene. If you want to get your hands on that just drop me a line. I am not going to post it here as:  
1) it really has nothing to do with the story proper,  
2) would only disrtupt the story's progession and  
3) I am actually a bit embarrassed about having written it at all. ^.^'


	145. 144

One-Hundred and Forty-Four

_.  
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_Good morning, Ms. Morrison._

I bolted upright in the bed, clutching the blankets to me and looked around in a panic.

_Assuming you have not completely stultified the Empire yesterday, and I would have heard of that..._

By then I had ascertained that Seros was not actually in the room with me. I allowed myself to slump backwards and calm my pounding heart. Way to shock a girl awake.

_.. keep that up or I will hear about it. Carry on, that upstart!_

I must have missed a part in my momentary panic, but when he finished I was already grinning again. Having something better to do than lining up voice talent to shout me out of bed, indeed, Arn. I was looking forward to tease him about it. I was also wondering what else he was planning. Then I made it to the freshers, though my feet complained. They would be back in boots today, so I decided to ignore them. Wimps.

Despite its positively antiquated appearance, the Moff's palace on Yaga Minor was equipped with modern freshers. Or it was me who had no grasp of time here and freshers were somewhat antiquated in themselves and just hung around because of the convenience of not dripping all over the carpets after a shower. Still, the soft tickle of the sonic waves could never live up to the torrent of water pouring over one. I always felt as if something was missing. And it was.

When I pulled down the long tunic of my full dress (would those formalities never end?), Rukh appeared. He gave me a quick once over and nodded. I will never understand how he managed to know whether or not I had the knife on me. It was perfectly hidden, he had made certain of that. Come to think of it, I had no idea why I had worn it the day before. There had not been the slightest chance for anything untoward to happen to me.

I didn't like the implication that there might be balls in my future with had nasty surprises waiting. So far the Chiss society had sounded very formal, stiff and like social suicide for a klutz like me, but not lethal in the lietral way. I did not want to have to look out for black masks on a ball. Or maybe I'd even end up like poor von Fersen. I shuddered. That was no way to die, no way at all.

"Are you coming?" Rukh might have been impatient. He was still difficult to read.

It was traditional that the military honchos watched the newly inaugurated Moff signing his first papers and such. That made sense because you got proof of his attitudes and stance, given that he really had something controversial to do on his first day. It was by now also tradition not to let that happen.

I had it easy spotting faces in the crown now, having seen most of them twice. But some looked as if they had unsavoury epiphanies as I went through the ranks. Isard almost lost it when I winked at Krennel. He didn't mind. And why should he? We were both simple people caught up in the convoluted plans of our partners. I only nodded at Isard, and thus averted an interstellar incident. She was one of those who were not the least surprised to see me here again. Good research.

I was so busy nodding and smiling that I managed to run - almost - into Baron Fel. Quite a feat since he was tall and not of the slim conviction and really difficult to overlook. Along with his wife, his broad smile had vanished. He was probably very intimidating. In general. If you were not me or not on his side, or something.

"Baron Fel." Unthinkingly, I took a step backwards, extending my hands with the palms upwards.

Without hesitation he answered likewise, putting the backs of his hands over mine. "Ms. Morrsion."

Even his hands seemed huge. I had difficulty curling my thumb around his index finger in the proper way. A small flicker ran over his features because I had identified him as an ally close to a friend. Whyever he hadn't seen that coming. He sure knew a lot about the future even if he didn't share with his wife.

"You keep staring at my wife, Ms. Morrison." Accompanied with the broad smile his tone wasn't much of a reprimand.

"I am sorry," I had apologised feeling embarrassed at myself. "I just can't believe how great she looks. And after having children, too. Four, I think?"

"Six," she corrected with a smile.

"I guess, I'll look like a Hutt after my first," I sighed. The image of my mother waxing and waning depending on her overall mood came to my mind.

"The kids will keep you up and running, "Syal promised. "Do you plan to have children?"

I glanced at Soontir, who nodded imperceptibly. "Future developments may necessitate it."

"Ms. Morrison!" She was almost angry. "What kind of attitude is that? How can you even consider having children this way?"

"Baroness, I realise I am unfit to be a mother currently." I wondered how to word this tactfully. "I am counting on nature to have employed mechanisms that will activate my motherly instincts should a child happen to me, because it would be my child and that's a difference. I very much intend to love my child."

"And the husband?" We both looked at the baron at this unexpected intervention.

"If possible," I managed.

His lips tightened for a moment.

"The two of you," Syal chided. "Talking as if that was some kind of military operation. Shame on you."

Getting a grip on myself, I laughed a little. "You're of course right, Baroness. Though I do wonder how many of your husband's manoeuvres on you have been planned with military precision."

With this, the topic changed back to safer grounds. It had been a nice conversation about family, the military and loyalty. And it had ended with me on the dance floor with Baron Fel. A nice memory that even his current lack of smile could not diminish.

"Enjoying the impression you are making?", he asked.

"If I am still doing that somebody needs better intel." I grinned.

"I am sure many consider it now."

"Good, that will keep them busy for a while." I let my gaze sweep over the room. "There will be more than enough busybodies left."

"Doubtless." He escorted me unobtrusively to my seat. "You placing must have cost somebody a lot of sleep."

I shook my head. "Behind the Grand Admiral always," I replied with a smile.

"With a knife ready." His glance went to my hidden weapon.

Still my hand went unconsciously to where a ritual dagger on a Chiss tunic would have been hidden. And before I could come up with some kind of sensible answer, he had drifted away to talk to Pelleaon. Like hell I would disturb Pelly at anything. Still Fel was right. I stood behind Thrawn - with a knife. I sat down and closed my eyes for a moment. Thinking would have to wait until there were less eyes trained on me. I tended to think pretty unguardedly.

"Thinking happy thoughts, I hope."

I opened my eyes to find Arn turned around on his chair looking at me.

"Doing my best." I tried to smile.

"That should be easy now that the unspeakable horrors of the ball are behind you." A mischievous grin started to spread over his face. "I didn't think I'd ever see you such a bundle of nerves."

"Arn." I tried to make it sound like a reprimand and failed by several klicks.

"Look at you," he went on, the grin growing more impish with each word. "Look at all we threw at you. But once we dress you up all pretty and get you to a ball, you about collapse."

"Arn!" I groaned.

"Not to mention the priceless look when you saw the Grand Admiral. It was as well that you were all caught up in your own head, because I am not sure, I managed to suppress the giggles."

I glared at him. "You're doing this here because I can't retaliate, right?"

He winked. "Do I want to get strangled by an enraged belle of the ball? I think not."

"I will so get back at you next-" I was cut short by the arrival of his Admiralship - not in complete mess dress getup, thank God - who took his seat between Arn and Pellaeon. I stared at the white back for a moment trying hard not to think back on the incident the night before involving my back. Again I failed by several klicks. I wondered if there had been a greeting and if I had missed it due to fighting with Arn.

The ceremony itself lasted about two hours. An adjutant would bring a file, read a summary of its contents and Deerian would put his name under the suggested solution/verdict or not. In the latter case he'd write a recommendation instead and the adjutant would read out that as well. All in all it was very boring stuff. So I zoned out with a politely interested smile on my face.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	146. 145

One-Hundred and Forty-Five

"I want a seat at the window," I proclaimed as we filed up to board the shuttle.

"What?" Arn shot me an irritated look.

"When we arrived I sat at the aisle," I explained as if it was self-evident. "So now I want to sit at the window."

"Mellanna," he didn't sound very patient. "There are no window seats in a shuttle."

"Somebody has to be able to look out," I insisted.

"It's a shuttle," he shot back. "You know very well that the only people able to look out are the pilots."

"But I haven't seen anything of Yaga Minor yet," I complained.

"You have seen the Moff's palace."

"The inside off," I grumbled. "There was not even a terrace at the ball."

"I understand that unsavoury things tend to happen in such places," Arn tried to explain the lack of fresh air away.

I fought the image of an unsavoury Grand Admiral happening to me on a terrace with little success. "Highly unlikely," I discarded the idea in the end. Looking at Arn I realised I had to add something making more sense to him. "That's not the point. I didn't see the planet, landscape or anything, not even the night sky. And there's two auxiliary stations in the cockpit."

He rolled his eyes. Arn actually rolled his eyes at me in public. "You'll live."

Sure I would, but I would rather live _and_ see something of the galaxy I travelled. Seeing the insides of spaceships was boring in the long run. I was still pouting when I flopped down in my seat at the end of the row with Arn between me and the other Imperials like a firewall. Some things never change. With a sigh I closed my eyes. There had been things to think about. Now would be a good time to do that.

So what had it been? Item the first - knifing Thrawn. I could not deny that the idea held an appeal to me. Depending on the situation and the current amount of manipulation involved quite a big appeal. Not that I could let my lower instincts get the better of me in such a moment. Satisfying as it might be. So no, I would not knife Thrawn from behind. Not literally and, as things stood, not even metaphorically. Though that might change. He had a knack getting on my nerves real bad.

What else? Krennel? Naw, there's always been the likes of him. There was not much I could do. And I had people like Getelles to make up for him - somehow. So what else? Child inconveniences? Well, I didn't want to think abut that. Full stop. But there had been something else. I was certain.

Home! I almost jumped. That had been it. How could I forget? Actually: how could I forget again? I tried to recall the night before, but all I got was fuzzy. A sense of tiredness; receding adrenaline; warm, white softness and streak of blue, all mixed up like a McFlurry.

Suddenly I felt very bad. Not because I missed home so much but rather because somehow I didn't. How long was I here now? Six months? Eight? That was not such a long time, except it was for missing people. Sure my family and friends were looking for me still, or had they given up already? And how _did_ they handle it?

I dismissed my boyfriend first, sad as it was. Whatever else, he was incapable of being alone. And missing or not even six months were too long for him. Two he might just manage under these dire circumstances, but that was the longest I could see him last. My lips hardened for a moment and I reminded myself that even with my eyes closed I was still in a public place. Even if the public was not interested in me at all, which was a blessing right now. And it was not that I had been an example of celibacy. At least not by choice. The only reason I had not laid Dave was my need of a clean slate later on. Now. Later. Too soon.

So my parents. I was sure they hadn't stopped looking, or worrying. Neither my siblings. Or close friends. Were they assuming the worst by now? Or just hoping I was a carcass in a ditch somewhere because that would be the easier way for everybody involved. I wished I could tell them to stop worrying. On the net my traces were probably long gone. I was nothing if not unremarkable.

My flat was surely closed down by now. Where were my things? Who took care of my degus? And why did I no take the time to think about any of this. Apart from the obvious pain it brought. Or used to bring. Did it still hurt now, or came the pain from not hurting and feeling guilty? And which was worse?

A hand was placed on my arm gently. "I'm sorry. Next time I'm sure I can appropriate one of the auxiliary stations."

Arn. Thinking this was still about not getting out and see some real landscape. He was a good guy, if way off track. And, as I slowly opened my eyes to smile at him, I realised that I was indefinitely grateful for that. "Thank you," I got out. It didn't sound too bad, certainly not as shaky as I felt.

At disembarking I was reunited with my pad again that promptly informed me that I had a whole hour to change and eat before I had a debriefing scheduled with Thrawn. I found training sessions with Arn later on. I would have to think up some retaliation. But first I changed back into a normal uniform which was not quite as uncomfortable as the mess dress, though of course not as flashy either.

I checked my image for hidden weapons, but those bunny-extensions covered up everything nicely. Thrawn probably liked to keep important people informed about me being mad and armoured. To who I would be a bigger danger (myself or the others) would only come clear should I actually happen to have to use the knife. A happenstance I was sure a lot of people were working on preventing.

"Or does it show?" I asked turning to Rukh.

"You think of it being there. Your body-language shows if you know what to look for." He circled me slowly. "As long as it is a weapon separate from you, it will always show."

I wondered how Khanathitera had managed to hide her knife. But she had been a Noghri. It probably came more naturally to them. Then Rukh was back in the antechamber and I in the private control room. The faces of the inauguration's festivities looked down at me from all angles. Time to tally my score. _Volle Punktzahl fürs Tanzen*_, it echoed in my head. At least I was not unknowingly about to save time and space from evil witch. Plus I had danced more than once even if the colour of dress of the significant other had been the same.

Aforementioned other sat in the command chair in the double ring of displays studying a screen intently. At least he was not in full dress anymore. Only when he raised a hand to beckon me on, did I realise that I had stopped dead in my tracks. Not that sudden confrontation with one blue hand helped any. Something cold and shaky went up my spine.

If he noticed, he didn't show. "Mellanna, " he chided. When he looked up from the screen there was only slight impatience on his features. Falling back on human body language. This was bad.

Getting my act together, I came to a halt beside him. "So, how bad was it?" My mouth was still working it seemed, even if my head was not.

"Full dress is as uncomfortable as I remember," he said calmly. "You should be grateful for the chance to wear something less restrictive in the evening."

_Come again?_ The best I could do was not gape. And not think that at least you could get out of mess dress on your own. Uh. I really needed to get that off my mind terminally. And quickly. If possible.

"But I take this is not what you were getting at." He turned his head towards me fractionally.

Uh. Um. "From a purely aesthetic point I approve with the design of full dress." I brought my hands towards the front of my body a little - leaving things unsaid. "Though I understand the point you are raising." I hoped. I really hoped this was about high collars looking great but being a bit on the chafing side of fashion. And the footwear of full dress didn't turn your feet into a hot pulp. I stopped the memory when my soles touched the cold tiles. Instead I turned my hands a little to imply expectant patience.

"Krennel will need looking after," Thrawn most obligingly changed the subject. I had no idea what I would have done if he had insisted on discussing Imperial fashions with me. Something stupid, no doubt.

"He will be easier to control with Isard gone." I shook my head in irritation. "Not dead, I mean, just out of the picture. By the way, is she still cloned and around twice?"

Thrawn's face was unreadable. I'd never find out if I told him something new or if I just confirmed his intel. I didn't sigh and felt quite accomplished about that.

"You can leave Isard to me," he just said. "Krennel seems not to be immune to your manner. Still you could have been less obvious with Baron Fel. Your attitude towards him is commendable, though."

I listened wondering how he knew so much about how I had spent the evening when he had not been around. Did I really want to know who had reported to him. No. I tried to chase the thought away. This was the Empire and paranoia was the proper reaction. It just wouldn't help me one bit. I was watched. End of story.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

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*Quistis to Squall, FF8 after the ballroom scene.


	147. 146

**Author's Note: **

I owe deep thanks to Timothy Zahn. I was looking forward to _Choices_ and it did not disappoint. As hoped, there was more info about his Admiralship I can draw on and use. And, though not intended, Zahn himslef made some ideas I had about Thrawn canon in a few black-on-white sentences. Only **FANGASM** can approximately describe the way that feels.  
So there, it was not my idea, it was all canon! ^.^'

* * *

One-Hundred and Forty-Six

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!_

All in all the debriefing had gone well and in an orderly fashion after the initial irritation. I hadn't earned any brownie points but considering the overall lack of chocolate in my immediate vicinity that was not really surprising. I got up and yawned my way through the sonic. After yawning while brushing my teeth had objectionable consequences, I stopped and tried to focus on the day ahead of me instead.

I didn't even know my schedule. Everything had been so geared towards the inauguration that now that it was over I didn't know what it was that it had interrupted; I was sure there had been something. A look on my pad would help, but I was intelligent enough to remember on my own. Right?

Staring into my tea didn't bring any enlightenment either. And where was Arn? I could also ask Rukh. Well this should teach me. If I ever managed to earn any brownie points, I should eat them before they were inevitably disallowed again. I gave up and consulted my pad that showed a very ordinary day. The bulk of my time was still taken up by lessons of all kinds, sprinkled with time to eat and what I decided to call meetings. One with Dave after lunch. Since my 'other business' was done now, I could be expected to concern myself with that again. Not much fun. If anything, I was further from weaselling concessions out of Thrawn than before. That I could amend with a meeting in the evening.

I didn't linger on that thought for many reasons and instead wondered why Seros had not changed back to the curriculum but still was teaching me poise according to planet when dancing. Either there were more balls lurking in the near future or he just decided to get through with this now since we were already at it. I prayed it was the latter.

Arn was suspiciously absent from lunch which I spent also in Seros charming company. He wondered aloud how I had managed to get through the inauguration. The explanation that there had been a buffet did not convince him any. So I was back at table manners.

I took a deep breath before I opened the door to meet with Dave. Seeing him again after such a long time, it seemed to be forever somehow, gave me a small shock. The last time I had seen what was not. Now I only saw what he was. Clone. Warrior. Dark haired and looking at me from dark eyes that betrayed nothing.

He was wearing the full armour except helmet again, but this time the white bore no semblance to - other white outfits. I lowered myself carefully into a seat. "So what's new?" It was not an ingenious opening, but better than most I spontaneously thought of.

"Heavy lines of freight traffic were spotted that lead to Byss," he pointed at a star chart and figures running alongside it.

I watched with interest, not sure what it meant for the operation. "How heavy?"

"Enough to build a Death Star," he said flatly.

Well, that was indeed a lot of stuff to move. Only I knew that Palps was not building another of those death traps. "No Death Star," I said, wrecking my brain for information. Had I known what he was building? What did the comics say? It had probably been a less interesting subplot without much of Luke in it and I had not given it much attention.

Dave watched me waiting for enlightenment to dawn on my face. I felt pressured which was new. I looked back at him finding that I still considered him extremely good-looking, first grade eye-candy, but - but. Shaking my head, I tried to get back onto the topic of huge Imperial thingies. Death Star. Suncrusher. Black Hole on a Leash.

"World Destroyers." I had no idea what they were capable of, but I did have major destruction in the back of my mind. "He is building World Destroyers. Though I can't really remember what they do."

"We will find out." He didn't sound unduly troubled. And then he went on to adjust the attack pattern with something huge and nasty and probably fully functional hanging in orbit. That alone would have been sobering to see. Discussing the mechanics of battle command with him was no better. But I needed to understand how such things were run to know how to subvert all involved parties while making them think I was doing them a favour.

Well, I would practice on his Admiralship. Or so I had thought. Instead I found myself looking at what seemed to be the yellow press of the GFFA. The inauguration ball had made a lot of headlines, and all images I could see were of the same blue-and-white couple. It took a moment until I realised that it was actually me in those pictures. The blue-clad apparition had nothing in common with the woman blearily looking at me each morning from the mirror. Only with a lot of optimism and wishful thinking I could make out some similarities.

"I would have thought that there would be more images of Deerian," I said cautiously. "Except if this is only the yellow press. I don't think it does politics."

"You are correct in your assumption." He might just have gotten over with it and added 'for once'.

"So," I tried to gain some time to think. What was he playing at? If this was not about this image being chosen over ones by Deerian... "What did coverage look like usually?"

The answer was a change of images. Several couples vied for the highest number of front pages. Oh. Not that I had expected Palps to attend to balls. I mean - my mind ran with the idea and made me wish for brain bleach instantly. No good. Uh. But that only meant that right now everybody thought it more interesting to see who Thrawn was with than favouring their own favourites by giving them front - oh. I didn't know what to say.

"It was like this every time?"

Thrawn confirmed with a nod, not bothering to give visual proof.

"Well, that's good then, isn't it?" The factions were still there, of course, but a strong leader, not to mention one outthinking them in his lunch break, would keep that under control. Or I was just seeing castles in the air again that were not there. "I didn't think it'd make such an impression."

"Interesting, since you were actually there." It was also interesting that he still considered it necessary to point out my lack of thinking. Only when something blue entered my field of vision I realised that this was not what he was aiming at this time. There were four small marks on his forearm, spaced neatly as if somebody (that somebody most likely being me) had gripped him rather insistently.

I managed to say nothing and blush in embarrassed silence. Thrawn took the hint and covered up again while I looked around frantically only to find another set table, Chiss culture stamped all over it and before I could help it, I got a full Chiss greeting that was distracting, though not really holding hands. I was so easily distracted lately. And still somehow my mind was reluctant to dislodge the idea of blue skin running all the way up that arm under the white cloth. It was somewhat amazing and a concept I was not sure I really grasped. There was the bit of blue skin you got to see on hands and face, but the expanse of a completely blue forearm was for some reason derailing my mind.

I had to do something. I sat down and I perused the food. Except for the Chop Suey a la bug-leg and the pink chocolate filling I recognised nothing. Bother. I decided to start with the bugged vegetables.

"Manners." Thrawn stopped my reaching hand. "You have to know the names and implications of all dishes. The same of their ingredients and order of menu. It is highly unlikely that you will find an obliging gentleman to help you out each time."

"But there is no chocolate," I protested.

"You are in no position to blackmail me, Mellanna."

Well. "You're right. I'm sorry." Maybe I could at least be not completely impossible all the time. I signalled a proper degree of contrition which proved to be difficult not only because I was sitting. I realised that I was doing this for the first time. "So tell me all about it."

Unfortunately, he did; in fine detail.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	148. 147

One-Hundred and Forty-Seven

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!_

Yes, I got it. You may stop shouting now. Demotivation had somehow gotten its paws on me. It was probably the lack of anticipation (or horror) that got to me. Adrenaline was just another drug. Possibly. There were again lessons with Seros. And lunch with Seros.

On my sulking question if there were any balls in my future that would necessitate intimate knowledge of all the details he was showing me, Seros replied that Thrawn could not show up with a different woman each time. I didn't know why not, but wisely kept my mouth shut.

Likewise, Fi had just shaken his head in disappointment when I wanted to know if I really had to go armed to all those possible future balls. "Do you really believe that any of the attendants has been unarmed?", he asked in return.

I looked at the guests again in my memory and had to admit that, yes, I had been assuming just that. The idea that all of them had at least a knife stashed away on them somewhere was scary. It would be easy for the guys and their uniforms, maybe I could ask his Admiralship about that, but the women... I tried to think of Saedrin wielding a knife. She'd be formidable, and Syal - the mind boggled.

So I did as told and disentangled my knife from several positions on my body, not all without showing my knickers. At least this was Fi, not Dave. That I didn't want my knickers to show in front of Dave was improvement. I hoped. If I wanted to go in any romantic direction, he was not it. I'd have to look at his Admiralship for that. And see how he didn't go into the same sentence as romantic? It was hopeless.

Fi agreed, though he was commenting on my skills to get at my knife in a short enough time for it to be useful; like before I was dead. But as the exercises went on, that became less and less likely. I'd be dead, no matter what happened. Lyk agreed with that assessment as he tried to improve my shooting abilities. Where the frag was Arn? Did he finally get some time off? And if he did, did that mean I would, too. Some day.

The idea of holidays did nothing to improve my aim. And it did not become true either. Instead I found myself facing Thrawn again. This was getting - regular, unsettling, predictably consequential. I tried not to think about it. "Where is Arn?" I wanted to know."

"Advanced training".

I was tempted to probe but didn't. Thrawn had that inflection that was almost not there but sure telling you the topic was closed. "When will he be back?"

"When he is done. You need not worry about that, Mellanna."

"He's been a permanent fixture in my life here." I ran my fingers through the complicated motion of a Chiss shrug equivalent. Raising my shoulders now would imply guarding my neck and insinuating that Thrawn was about to cut my throat. "Naturally, I do wonder."

"There are more important things to wonder about." The displays turned on and showed Chiss formal tunics again. He was obviously aware of my tendency to forget anything not repeated repeatedly.

"I'd need to talk about the Byss mission, too," I went out on a limb. With the ball clogging my head, I had almost forgotten about the concessions I was supposed to get. "Procedure, command structure, that kind of thing."

He gave me a once-over as if he just realised I was there. "We will get to that before your next meeting with Skirata and Skywalker," he assured me. "It will not take long."

So he thought. Which meant that either he was about to just concede or simply refuse. Everything else would take some time. I tried to shake the image of throttling him a bit.

"I realise that the attack is worrying you," he conceded. "Still it should not. You are being provided with all the necessary training."

Not that it was the training that bothered me. I didn't think I'd amount to anything much until the invasion started anyway. But he was not going there and not letting me go there either. His priorities. I closed my eyes and wiped my canvas. His game. With a slow breath I painted myself neutral. "If you say so, sir."

"Mellanna."

Well, he deserved it. If he annoyed me, I'd annoy him right back. And my body language didn't flicker at all, neither with smugness nor feigned innocence. Yes, I was getting better at this.

"You realise that I cannot have you use that form of address?" He was serious as far as I could tell. Maybe I had really annoyed him. Not looking smug became difficult.

"I am sorry," I said with another 'sir' very audible, if not pronounced.

"You need to trust me more." He came to stand a step before me. And I will obviously need to find a better incentive for you to avoid slipping like that."

"I am sure you will find a way," I replied. And because I just couldn't resist I added: "...sir."

"You owe me one." Was I imagining things or was he now looking smug?

"One what?" Maybe I should worry.

"I will let you know in time." He turned back to the displays.

Oh great. That meant I'd get to know just before whatever it was was needed. I should worry. If I got around to it. But that would have to wait as Thrawn was bent on making sure I still could keep the Chaf ambassadors from their deputies and relatives by marriage from those by trail. To my own surprise I did rather well and didn't mix anybody up.

Just when he was about to say something positive about my achievements so far, I cracked. This had been creepy enough. "Please, don't do this, sir." And yes, I did bite my tongue because I had not meant to say it that time. "I mean, Thrawn." Backpaddling even if it was too late.

"Explain 'this'." He raised a brow. There was a distance creeping back into his tone that relieved me no end.

"I get the feeling you try to be, um, normal or nice or whatever. And it kinda scares me." I looked down on my hands. It made me uncomfortable as well and creep me out, or was that freak me out? It sure didn't sit well with my overall assessment of who he was. Maybe that was another of his lessons? I hoped not.

"Your preconceptions are interestingly unyielding," he replied. "You might want to reconsider them."

"I'd rather not." I felt myself blushing and kept my eyes stubbornly on my hands. "They do make all this easier for me."

"Mellanna," he forced me to look up, "this is _not_ going to be easy. And you need to realise that _I _am the least of your problems."

I nodded; only once, because it felt strange to move my chin against his fingers. Some part of me accused him of doing that on purpose; contact, that was. The major part was laughing about the notion of him being a small problem. Hell, he sure was not. I didn't even know whether to approach this with logic or not. He relieved me temporarily of worrying by dismissing me. Which was actually not dismissing anymore, since I had to reframe everything in a less military setting.

I was not sure I could.; not sure I wanted to; not sure I could make myself. Syal might joke about this not being a military operation, but right now I was not sure if it would be immensely easier for me to think of it this way.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	149. 148

One-Hundred and Forty-Eight

_I shouldn't be here, but it is too late. The crowns of the trees sweeps by under me as I circle higher, up the valley, up the cliffs. The sun feels golden, like liquid honey and the green glows under me with eerie intensity. It is enough to distract anybody, but I cannot be distracted. I must be careful as I soar over the trees to spy._

_He has seen me, and I can feel him open his hands to catch me even as I try to evade. But I can just change. It is a new shape I have not done often yet, but I feel confident as I hurl towards the ground. I spread my wings to break the fall and slip away just over the ground and find myself hopping to a stop on the green. I am a blackbird. The wrong shape, not a sparrow. The bigger body couldn't handle the sharp manoeuvre. I am confused._

_I look down over the valleys, the tree glowing in the slanting light, with longing. The window is open, but I can't get away. Birdmaster is looking at me intently, he wants to know what I was up to. I want to flee, soar free again, but he holds me with the invisible cage of being able to catch me within the first beats of my wings._

_His pale face is all angles that become more pronounces by the thin strip of black beard running along his jaw line. His eyes glitter cold as he demands, questions. And I have nothing to tell him. I want to take flight. But I have to respond. How?_

_... do something for the Empire..._

_I turn but there is nobody. And the Empire is the last thing I need to worry about perched high over this golden green country. Birdmaster is still demanding and I cannot just do nothing. He will surely. He reaches out._

A was hand shaking my shoulder insistently until I opened my eyes. Rukh was standing beside my bed, doing his best to wake me up.

"Mellanna," his growl was unmistakably impatient.

"Just a dream," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. But the gaze of Birdmaster was still glowering at the back of my head. I had no answers and no truths to offer. So I stumbled into the fresher and tried to wash it all off. It worked and would until I lie down to sleep again. The urge to return into my dreams was old and I never really got it worked out.

I gobbled down some breakfast and hurried to Seros. He looked even more disgruntled than usually, though I did make it in time. Barely. I was about to apologise for almost being late, the way he looked me up and down surely warranted that, when he spoke.

"A change in plans." He shook his head. "You need to be taught the demeanour of a head of state."

"What?" All apologies were suddenly forgotten.

"The order is from the Grand Admiral himself." He eyed me closely, but I was to stunned to do anything. If that had not been the training so far, what had it been? And how would it change? I kept staring at Seros, barely remembering to close my mouth.

"It is an unfortunate decision I cannot claim to understand, but I can do my best so you do not embarrass the Empire." His mouth settled into a hard line.

"Yes, sir." He gave me a sharp glance. But what could I do? He was right. "Embarrassing the Empire is not an option."

"At least we agree on that."

"That and the fact that I'll never make it without your help." There was Chiss stuff that I could rely on Thrawn for, should I manage to make myself ask or something, but the theory was sound. But for everything else I was depending on Seros. I was hellbent on pleasing him. Which turned out to be less than easy. The higher you rose through the echelons of society, the more affectations you seemed to need. None of them making any sense from the outside.

But if I had to wave my hand with spread fingers past cheek with a fake smile and a tilted head I would do it. As often as necessary. Until Seros decided it was okay - for now. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I needed to know all of this now because there was a very limited amount of tomorrow for me to learn it from him.

On the other hand I would get more than enough time to fine-tune my Chiss bearings. At least Thrawn was back at Grand-Admiraling me around which was the natural course of things. He was much easier to deal with that way, despite his sudden habit to ignore the limits of personal space. Having him stand just a tad too close at any given moment was making me antsy. Very much so, I was ready to jump at the smallest noise.

_"Aäete__m'ero'luo__l'umner_," he ordered. I was not sure how politely because the you- marker for nonentities and aliens also indicated an imperative if used directly before a verb. I queued the question up for later. First I had to get through describing the process of setting up a formal dinner down to invitations and sitting arrangements. Again. Once again, he had implied, but my tongue felt so knotted up that I was not even sure I'd get out _lua_ correctly. Not to mention you couldn't get away serving everybody water.

"_Aäe'oroker'athei_," I began. It was almost saying 'as you wish' only with a lot more social disparity involved. I was _very_ good at saying that because tradition demanded I was much more of a nonentity than even the exiled Thrawn. I feared that I would also be saying it a lot once I was grounded on Csilla. In the end it took another three attempts for me to get it right. Three attempts and some heavy hints from Thrawn. Maybe private life on Csilla was all very relaxed and easygoing, but you'd never guess it from the fuss they made about a single dinner invitation.

I was happily imagining cutting through the guests who had followed the invitation and dared to complain about the gaffes in social strata in the shooting range. Lyk didn't even correct my stance.

"Your grin is creepy," he commented. "Don't want to know who's on the receiving end of that."

I put the blaster down for a moment, studying the inlay. "Social procedure and proper demeanour," I said softly. "Only that I can't really shoot them."

"Sucks to be you." He shrugged. "Give me those."

I handed him the blasters and watched as he scrutinised them.

"Nifty, no sparring settings," he finally commented. "You'll have to make do with standard equipment."

I did not like the images the words sparring and blaster in the same sentence conjured. Unfortunately, I was completely correct with my assumptions. After putting me into a heat sensitive jumpsuit and handing me blasters that suddenly felt huge and clumsy in my hands, Lyk pushed me into a cluttered room.

"On a count of ten, the lights will dim to twilight," he said, the wolfish grin returning to his face. "Shoot me, if you can."

And don't get shot. He didn't say that, but for the sake of keeping scores that was the only logical conclusion. I darted off in any direction. Maybe it would be like paintball. I had never played paintball before, so any comparison would be shaky. The lights suddenly dimmed. I felt suddenly blind. Yes, I was wearing a generally grey jumpsuit, but so was Lyk. I'd never see him coming.

And I didn't. By the time I understood I was being shot at, he already had three solid hits. Another two followed before I realised from where the shots came and found some cover. The hit spots glowed slightly in the dark. Great, just great.

I didn't go to look if Lyk still was where he had been because most likely he wasn't. Instead I tried to find a place with a good view and good cover. Lyk probably knew where that was, I realised by the time I had found a likely post. So instead of trying to get to it, I snailed around to a place from where you could shoot somebody trying to get there.

Indeed, there was a figure crouched behind one of the bulky crates. I took my time to aim, but when noting happened after the first bolt hit home, I dropped and rolled to the other side of the barrel I had used for cover. Still I was not fast enough and sported another glowing spot. This sucked. And it didn't get any better. After what seemed to be an eternity (30 minutes to be exact) the lights came back on. I had not managed to hit Lyk even once.

He turned me around assessing the bright spots on my jumpsuit. "You're so dead," he decided. I nodded. What else could I do? "And it's not even fun. Got to think of something else." With a shrug I was dismissed. I wasn't sure if I was angry about his condescending attitude or relieved that I would likely not have to try this game again.

I had lunch on my own, wondering fleetingly where Seros was. I had gotten so used to his consistent nagging that it felt strange not to hear it. I decided to be very proper about it anyway. Just because he was not here to watch, didn't mean I could not do my best to emulate upscale Imperial manners. There was still a lot to learn. You could have called it a miserable, lonely lunch if I had not been so busy polishing my eating habits.

To my surprise the afternoon held no appointments at all. No fighting, no training, no lessons - nothing. I sat staring at my pad as if that would amend the situation. What was I to do with time off? I didn't have the slightest idea. I had stopped writing and reading... Well, that was a good idea. Thrawn had said something about Krennel being susceptible through me. I could look into that. There'd be a lot to read about him, his Ciutric Hegemony and whathaveyou.

I was browsing through the directories when I realised I didn't have any music to listen to while I read. That was no apocalypse but I always liked to listen to music when reading. The last music I remembered, I strained my memory, had to be when I had been in medbay being blind and all I remembered of that was probably Thrawn's voice over some ambient piano. I was not sure if that would actually help concentrating. If there was a piano only version around, maybe.

A thought struck me and wouldn't leave again. What about Chiss music? They sure had to have some kind of music. And would it not actually be a good idea to get acquainted with it? And while I was at it, what about the other fine arts, books first and maybe paintings, sculptures, the whole frigging cultural combo? I composed a comm to Thrawn before I could reconsider.

Then I wondered if asking for classic Chiss novels had really been a good idea. If you went though humanities great novels for fun - just imagine being stuck with Finnegan's Wake after having plodded through War and Peace. Horror, actually. But it was too late now. Better get to the easy reading while I still could. Personal files might be dead boring, but at least they were intelligible.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	150. 149

One-Hundred and Forty-Nine

As expected the material on the Ciutric Hegemony was extensive and boring. But I could not remember getting a single interesting thing to read since I arrived, so what was new? The Hegemony was comparatively small for galactic standards. It consisted only of a handful of worlds, most of them not even moderately important.

There was a high percentage of aliens around, so even I saw Krennel's human-centric ideas as some kind of problem should he stay in power. Since I didn't think I could change his mind, the best idea was to put him some place where he could feel important, but not do much damage. Promote out of the way, or however that was called.

In the meantime, Ciutric IV. It was an uninteresting place, but probably the best to set up as capital for the small cluster of stars of the Hegemony. Axxila was more important economically, hell even Liinade III was more important economically, but neither was situated conveniently at the meeting point of several trading routes. And as it seemed, neither had much of a say in what the Hegemony did, either. Krennel did as he pleased. All I had to do was make him find something else more pleasing. A piece of cake. If only I could get one.

But the Imperial Shipyards on Axxila, produced a substantial part of the fleet - that explained any interest Thrawn would have in the place. It was sure not pretty. I wondered which out-of-the-way place one could give Krennel to rule that would satisfy his hunger for glory but not be really worth anything. If only I could set up another Outbound Flight, make it _the_ prestigious place to be and ship him of as Commander of the mission. I allowed myself the daydream of shipping the rest of unwanted elements away under his command.

The comm brought me back to the unfortunate here-and-now that still sported the problem of Krennel unsolved. Thrawn had deigned to reply. I was not sure if I was surprised, pleased or worried. After reading, I went for slightly annoyed, though I was not sure if I was more annoyed with him or me. (Me probably, but I'd never admit that.)

The reply informed me, politely, that it was good to see that I finally had decided to take on my position with the necessary commitment. And there was already a choice of music and literature on my terminal had I had the mind to look.

Well, I sure had the mind to do so now. And there it was. All labelled nicely in Cheunh. Well, thank you, sir. I picked a music file by random and had it replayed. It reminded of ambient music, though what I thought of as synthesisers might just be proper instruments here, not to mention that piano was most likely not one. Chewing on my lip I browsed the selection of novels. All looked rather long, and translations happened to other people. I would raise that topic with Thrawn, should I remember.

There was also included a detailed vita of his Admiralship. Now, now. It looked that I had managed to score one of the old boys. At least he didn't quite get up to double my age. And if I recalled correctly you were not starting to be old until your late seventies in the GFFA. But on the other hand it didn't look as if Chiss got much of a childhood. Thrawn had joined the military aged twelve. That didn't sound right if you were not either a Mando or already fully grown up. Considering the evidence, I opted for the latter.

So young Thrawn had made a beeline from the world of commoners to the Second Ruling House, yadda, yadda. I skipped the military details to find a family tree of the Mitth family at the end of it into the midst of which I'd be cast. Due to his promise in the military service he had not only found a place in the family itself, but even secured the position of a former member that had been vacated by his getting killed in action. All this left me with an almost proper set of parents, one maternal grandmother, two sisters, a brother, loads of cousins, nieces and nephews and one former fiancée. My mind ground to a halt as I carefully reread that, but it was definitely a fiancée, former since his Admiralship got himself exiled.

For a long time I simply stared at the monitor; the false piano jingled in the background. Then I closed the file and started browsing through the literature. Most of it was way beyond my comprehension and I was only looking at the first page, hell only at the first paragraph. Chiss literature tended towards long sentences. I didn't. It took a while to make out some texts that looked manageable with my limited skills.

I picked out something called 'Journey' to start with. It was made out of simple sentences of the most basic kind. That was all very nice, but the author used it to make a point. And would continue to do so for thousands of pages. I didn't really look forward to that, but at least I could understand it. What I did not understand was where he got a forest from on Csilla. But maybe I'd find out later on.

The piano started to get on my nerves. But all the files I opened contained the same kind of music. It took me a while to get the idea of opening another folder in which I found what sounded to be traditional songs. They were difficult to understand, because if leaving syllables out to build sentences, it was even more legal to leave out bits that were supposed to be there to fit metre and rhythm. I was still trying to understand a word of it, when my pad chimed in. Time to move my sorry butt to his Admiralship. I sighed.

Stepping into the dimly lit art museum did not feel as nice as before. It was setting things up for a more private meeting and didn't I want to avoid those? No, I told myself, I did not. Actually, I was desperate to get his Admiralship alone and - well. Bang my head against a bulkhead repeatedly? Bang his head against a bulkhead repeatedly! That sounded less painful for me.

The Chiss greeting went flawlessly. I was getting the hang of that at least. The introduction to the Chiss Art scattered around reminded me of something. "The literature you sent is all in Cheunh," I said. "It is rather difficult to read."

"And you expected translations?"

"Well." Now that I thought about it, Baron Fel probably had better things to do and Parck too and there was no way to know if Stent's basic was good enough for him to translate, even if he had the time.

"Of course I have nothing else to do in my ample spare time than to translate Chiss literature."

My mind immediately came up with the image of a bespectacled Thrawn bending over books with a look of concentration on his face and a pencil in one hand. Not giggling was difficult. Not showing amusement impossible. "I'm sorry, sir" I managed.

"Seven. It it nice to know you can find amusement in this." I couldn't believe he was actually still counting. "Which is the novel you will start with?"

"Journey," I replied, consciously avoiding the sir.

"An interesting choice," he replied. "Did you look at the end?"

I almost huffed. "Of course not. I like my books to surprise me."

He gave me a very unreadable look. "It will not disappoint you there."

"Good." Time to find a safer topic. "I also had a look at Krennel and his Hegemony." I ignored the look he pointed at me, probably expecting to hear more about his own vita. But - fiancée - not going there. This had not really improved anything, but I would take it the best I could. It was just another mission, just another job. And that I was not completely averse to the whole idea should help, right? Right. I'd make it so.

"And to which conclusion did you come?"

"I'll join him. Seeing how you keep encroaching on my privacy and I am none too happy with that and Krennel would be such a convenient solution. Not to mention the information I could get for him that would enable him to get away from Isard who keeps encroaching on his personal freedom. Maybe he'd even try to take it to Palps behind her back."

"And this would help us how?"

"If he believes it I might just as well spill some useful information. And he needs to be promoted to a position where he can't do much damage. I don't think he's good for the Empire. I could take some detour to meet him by claiming to need some time to do whatever sensible thing before meeting up with Jaing and Luke." I didn't stop to correct my careless use of first names. "Or I could be a bit late and blame ship troubles." So there. It was as far as I could think.

Thrawn nodded. "The idea is sound if a bit callow. There is enough time to integrate that before the attack is launched."

Oh? I wondered what would be taking up so much of my time that Krennel had to be squeezed into my schedule. So I asked.

"Since the more circumspect approach did not sit well with you, we will approach the subject of your pregnancy directly."

I wished I hadn't.

"The attack of Byss will be launched in three months," he went on.

"Oh, well." I did some calculating in my head. I'd be just another decoration on Byss, pretending to keep everything together. That I could handle pregnant or no. I guessed. My experiences with pregnancies was limited to prejudices and hearsay. "Guess, I'll be spending a lot of time in the med bay now," I replied.

"Why?"

"Doing all those tests for compatibility and such?" I shrugged.

"That has already been done," he said. "Everything is ready."

Did I mention before, how I hated to have test done I didn't know about. Had they just cut off little pieces of me when I had not been looking? I wanted to bristle but it was too late for that now. "Okay," I just said. "When do I start?"

"What about right now?" He took a step towards me, my face was but a hand's breadth from his white uniform.

"Okay?" I tilted my head up to look at him, not sure what he was trying to accomplish. Not, until I felt his hands on my hips.

"Um."

This was not what I had expected. I mean this was science fiction, artificial insemination was most certainly invented; I had been counting on that! There had never been a word, I mean, not explicitly... I had not been expecting to do this the old-fashioned way. Oh bother. I blushed violently.

"Is there a problem," he wanted to know?

"I, I, I mean -" I stuttered into his uniform. The thought alone! And - I mean, what was I to say? Anything I could say would look very stupid. The truth then. "I didn't think it'd work like this."

"Don't tell me you still believe in the stork?" he asked sounding amused.

"No, no of course not," I assured hastily. But I could not, or could I? Lay back and think of the Empire? "It's just - I don't know, I mean - I didn't expect - this - traditional - normal - way?" I ended lamely. Of course that brought up the question of what I _had_ expected and why.

"That's alright," Thrawn said softly as he laid his arms around me.

For a long moment I stood the stunned, my arms limp at my sides, my cheek pressed against his chest. It felt good, embraces like this always did. I should not think so much, just enjoy it. Tentatively, I raised my arms, putting them around him. I closed my eyes. It felt good, wrong, perfectly, illicitly right.

Yes, he had been very nice lately, but then he had to if the plan was to work out. He wanted me to love him because that was what he needed for me to see it through. And I wanted to love him because it was what I needed to see this trough. But there was always that voice at the back of my head, nagging. This was but another plan.

I felt the tears rise. This was not going to work, it was working to well and I was all unbalanced with nowhere to fall. Trying not to shake, I clenched my hands around his shoulders. This was so not going right.

"I see you need to adjust to the approach," he finally said releasing me.

I nodded, stunned as he wiped away a last tear from me cheek. I would have fled the room, but making my feet move at all in an orderly fashion was difficult enough. Getting to my quarters took a lot of concentration and forever. There I just dropped on the bed, pulling the blanket over my head. It might have been so much easier, if he had been at least angry.

I had almost fallen asleep when Rukh's voice woke me again. "Boots, Mellanna."

I managed to sit up and apologise. "You could just let me lie like that, I assured him. "There's no need to nanny me, no matter what Thrawn says."

For a moment he only looked at me with those huge black orbs. It was disconcerting. "This is not among my specified duties," he finally said.

Oh.

Why were people going out of their way to be nice to me? I'd never get it. But since he was here... "What do you do, if what's right just isn't right?"

"_Make_ it right," he said without hesitating.

I sighed and leaned back. Make it right. Do it in spite of everything. Love was not really involved in this anyway. So I would have to learn how to do without. Nodding, I closed my eyes. "Will do." Had to. But that was obvious.

_And so the day went by. _

I smiled into the darkness. This sure did not fall under his detailed duties either. I needed a way to return the favour.

_Khanathitera stayed in the reach of Moon and felt his gaze heavy on her. So as the night fell, she prepared herself as she went to sleep and she held her knife close under her pillow. She pretended to sleep, waiting and listening for footsteps approaching. But there was only silence and finally she fell asleep._

_Another day came. Khanathitera was surprised to have fallen asleep and that nothing should have woken her. But she put her knife back to her calf and served Moon as he desired. And again she could feel his gaze heavy on her. So he is biding his time, she thought. And he will give me a false sense of security so I let down all my guards._

_But she smiled and bore the gaze throughout the day. And when his hands touched her as he took a bowl from it, she did not shy away. And when his fingers grazed her cheek because he found her beautiful, she did not recoil. For he was looking at her and her knife was ready. _

_So as the night fell, she prepared herself as she went to sleep and held her knife under her pillow, pretending to sleep, waiting and listening for footsteps approaching. But there was only silence and finally she fell asleep._

_And another day came and Khanathitera was surprised to have fallen asleep and that nothing should have woken her. But she put her knife back to her calf and served Moon as he desired. And again she could feel his gaze heavy on her. So she smiled when his hand touched hers and his fingers lingered on her skin. Because he was longing for her and she would slay him in the night._

_But again, as the night fell, there was nothing but silence to accompany Khanathitera's sleep. So the days passed by and her uneasiness grew and Khanathitera became anxious, for she did not understand him. But he did not say a word and smiled, resting his heavy gaze on her._

_"You look on me all day long and the gaze is heavy with desire," Khanathitera said when she could not bear the tension any longer. "But each night I fall asleep without hearing your footfall."_

_Moon laughed at that, softly, and shaking his head replied: "But why should I come to you?"_

_And she said: "Because I can see that you want to."_

_"Then I will come." Moon took her hand in his and smiled. "When you want it, too."_

_Seeing that he spoke truth Khanathitera shook all over, but he did not let go of her hand or stop smiling. And Khanathitera could read in his eyes and in her heart that the day would come, when his gaze would meet her eyes and there would be no rejection._

Well, I turned over to sleep. At least Moon had had the decency to wait. I had to chastise myself immediately. There was not a scrap of evidence that Thrawn wouldn't. Quite the contrary, not only taking the overall plan into consideration. The overall plan. I wished my head would stop spinning around that. But it didn't.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	151. 150

One-Hundred and Fifty

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!_

I really, really, really, REALLY didn't want to. I wanted to pull the blanket over my head, curl up in a tight ball and bang my head against the bulkhead. At least, a tiny, mean, nagging voice badgered inside my head, the call asked me to _get up_ and _do_ something for the Empire instead of _lie back_ and _think_ of it. Groaning I rolled out of the bunk and hit the floor with a satisfactory thunk.

For a long moment I just lay there and waited for reality to assert itself. Too bad it was still the same as it had been the evening before. My hips felt as if they had hand-shaped brandings on them. It was impossible not to think about it and equally impossible to think that Rukh should find me like this, softly banging my head against the floor. I was putting him through enough already.

My mood brightened when I put all my concentration into thinking about a way to return some of the favours to him. Maybe I could at least find something nice to tell him. Not that I could think of any great mythical story cycle that I could relate. I didn't even manage to keep the most basic of Roman and Greek myths apart. I was such a hopeless case.

At breakfast I stacked my plate with chocolate coloured things, none of which tasted even remotely like chocolate. Great, now I was also getting frustrated. But since I felt I had to so _some_thing, I grabbed a double caf and washed it down with a second cup of konto tea. So I was now frustrated and hyper on caffeine. Seros would surely approve.

He did, in his own unique way.

Most of which was to keep me repeating things I would do and things I sure as hell would not and what it meant should I be doing something. A lot of it was putting new meanings on what you did. I didn't ask questions, I ordered answers. And I retaliated should I not get them. And I retaliated differently should they not be the answers I wanted. I was to get what I wanted. End of story.

The overall absolutist approach was new to me and I was not sure I really wanted to be like that. Democracy was a nice thing, even if it tended to work badly. But I didn't get a say in this because, even if I was taught how to act like the First Lady of a state, everybody surrounding me was exempt from treating me like one. This was for outsiders, for show only. Bother.

Because of being hyper and not paying enough attention in his opinion, Seros also gave me homework for lunch. Unheard of, cruel and unusual punishment. For me and the poor guy behind the counter, too as I ordered braised nerf stripes done to perfection with vorzydiak mushrooms and enyak bobs. And had to insist. My regal abilities were probably not quite developed as he simply ignored me after a while. I had no idea what to do. Seros had not given any instructions for this outcome. After standing in everybody's way for another ten minutes I was mulling over an acceptable way to back out of the mess and didn't find one.

"Are you still standing in the way?" he asked me just as I was about to give in.

"Well," I gathered up my most regal voice. "I was giving you some leeway to prepare my meal." I looked down onto my empty tray.

"Are your serious?"

"Do I look as if I was joking?"I drew myself up and hoped to radiate hauteur.

After a short once-over he conceded the point. "No."

"Well then, what is the problem?" I demanded.

"Vorzydiak mushrooms and enyak bobs are not among the supplies," he shrugged. "Nothing I can do about it."

"I am sure you do have an appropriate substitute," I tired to arch a brow and failed a bit.

He thought about that for a moment, the nodded. And without further ado, I got a plate of prettily arranged meat strips, veggies and what looked like black streaked polenta. I grabbed some water and what might turn out to be at least a chocolate _coloured_ dessert. With as much dignity as I could muster, I sat down and started to eat in the upper class style Seros kept insisting on. I was really looking forward to the day this came natural and I didn't have to make a conscious effort of it.

Unfortunately, my mind was less worried about holding the fork perfectly aligned to the knife than having to meet up with a rather determined Grand Admiral later. I chewed on my fork without noticing, trying to move my thoughts beyond the point of exiting the antechamber. Something inside me simply refused to go there. It was absolutely ridiculous, not only because I had to, but also because not too long ago I would have wanted to.

What was my problem, really? I pushed my tablet away, crossing my arms on the table. Come on, I told myself, think happy thoughts. That shouldn't be so damned difficult. He's not that bad, I told myself and forced my thoughts back to the dancing. Now that had been agreeable, right? Not bad at all. His hand almost on my back opening that stubborn zipper. Oh, come on, you stupid bitch, fall for him already. Fall! It couldn't be that difficult. Whatever had gotten into me? I ranted at myself.

Hoping for support, I decided to poke my inner fangirl with a sharp stick. She should be happy to get the innuendo going and wonder if he was blue everywhere. And did that blue tongue make him a husky or just his voice. Oh my, bad puns. This was not working. I found a mouldering heap that might have been a fangirl once. Wonderful, just what I needed.

I dropped my head onto the table. "Great, sir," I murmured to myself. "Now you've really done it."

"Trouble?"

I looked up just in time to see Toris slip into the chair opposite of me. Shrugging, I nodded. "Obviously."

"Need a hand?"

"I don't think anybody can stop me from being an idiot," I sighed.

"An accurate assessment, unfortunately," he replied.

"Ain't that the truth." I rested my chin on my arms. "I was hoping that it'd get better over time. But even now, I just feel like everything's way over my head."

"I am sure it is," Toris agreed mercilessly.

"So why am I still here? Why am I doing this – stuff?" I sighed. "Why me?"

"Who do you expect to do you job and why?" He tilted his head.

"Well," I hesitated. It was a good question. One I hadn't really considered before. "I was thinking about somebody better qualified."

"Better qualified how?" He did look at me as if I was shovelling my own grave.

"More intelligent," I said without hesitation. "More adaptable, better in social matters, better in working with people. Not to mention looking better."

Toris shook his head. "And willing to spend the rest of their lives, in a worst case scenario, on a planet apart from everything they know? Raising the child of a man they don't expect to love them ever?"

"Well-" I began hesitantly.

"No, not 'well'," he interrupted me. "You have to decide. Either he'll never feel anything for you, then this is it; or there is hope. You can't have both."

I didn't dare to say 'well' again, though it was on my mind and in a very prolonged version. It was a question I didn't want to answer. It was a question I was afraid to answer. It was _the_ question the answer of which I didn't care to hear. "Bother," I muttered defeated.

"You'll work it out," he said, patting my shoulder as he left me to my gloomy thoughts.

I'd just have to look at it from the positive side. Thrawn was good-looking and intelligent on top of that. Not to mention he had been rather nice lately. No! No interrupting with objections. He _had_ been nice. And he'd keep being nice. He wouldn't abandon me in the foreseeable future and, well he might lie to me, let's be honest. But that was fine. He'd be there for me when I needed him. Possibly. With some years delay, maybe decades.

Hey! Who had let the objections back in again? Out! To summarise: He was amazingly intelligent and also good-looking. He was nice to me. He'd be nice to me in the future, but -. He'd not abandon me. But - Thinking of it this way he was - But - pretty darn perfect. BUT - Oh shut up.

BUT HE DOESN'T LOVE YOU!

It was very difficult to ignore an inner voice that insistent. Not that it mattered. _It doesn't matter,_ I told it firmly. It can't. I'd just have to live with that. And, really, this was just the next best thing. It had all the same configurations and trappings and if I didn't poke it too hard, the difference would be impossible to tell. So, getting back to the problem of getting myself plastered all over (or under? Did I really want to know?) Thrawn, if my inner fangirl proved uncooperative, I'd have to try something else. Fast.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	152. 151

One-Hundred and Fifty-One

I tried everything and nothing worked.

I tried to draw on the music associated with my former daydreams (that were currently tribulations, if not their own devious kind of nightmares). _Don't Let it Show_* - well, no. Maybe some years from now. You'd never know. But it was way to soon for that, if it ever came to bear which, as I had to concede, I really doubted. _Du Trägst Keine Liebe in Dir*_ - might be all too true, but was less than helpful right now. _Kiss Me_ - was definitely putting initiative on the wrong party, as did _Breathless_.

What about _Stars_? I tried to remember the lyrics, but there was just a heap of shattered words, some of them still holding on to each other. And try as I might that was it. I sure had owned a whole tape of Thrawn-related songs, and had played it diligently for a long time, but I couldn't remember anything else. I looked at the heap of something that had been my inner fangirl and it shrugged apologetically.

I tried to remember the poetry again, but that turned out more than difficult. Admittedly, most had been short pieces (half not discernibly Thrawn related even, if you didn't know me). Even on the scale of 'If-your-skin-was-blue-and-your-eyes-were-red' this rated as very bad. "Love me/leave me, I would thou couldst" only made sense with Rukh's mission accomplished and 'No Solution' was impossible to remember anyway. Plus I didn't feel like I was standing in tall black feeling.

Pictures were a hopeless idea from the start seeing how I had the original to stare at. Imagining him sitting in his dimly lit art museum was no problem at all, steepled fingers and half closed eyes and all, but anything approaching the subject of social interaction was difficult, thinking about even closer contact absolutely impossible.

So what? There was no art form left I could think of. That probably said everything about my knowledge of art. Still I couldn't bring myself to call a Thrawn action figure a sculpture. Not to mention mine had been eternally poised over a chessboard with the white queen in his hand. I didn't feel very queenly. But that was being worked on. And that I was in his hand had never really been questioned. I had known, from the start that, should he decide to utilise it, he could have me any way he liked. Pitted against a manipulative mastermind I had never had a chance. And I had known it.

And now I was what? Indignant about it? Now that was very sensible. What had happened to accepting the inevitable and change only things you had influence on. Or had it been suffering the inevitable? I let myself be distracted by the question but in the end had to return to the problem of being faced with the inevitable and powerless about it despite knowing it in advance. So there I had it, and there was nothing I could do about it. Except what I already did which was baulking and not very helpful.

_You'll be fine_, I told myself. _You knew about it from the start and you are perfectly prepared to face it_. And with that I banned all conscious thought about it. The only reason I didn't step into the command room a quivering heap of nerves was the _lor'kina_ wrapped tightly around me. I had never really realised ow incredibly useful a fixed set of behaviours was until now. You knew where to stand and what to do, even in the most unsettling of situations. I was not quite sure if this really was one.

The lights of the room were dimmed again and spotlights bathed the displayed paintings and sculptures in pools of golden light. The art around me was definitely alien, if somewhat familiar. I was sure I had seen some of the pieces before. My mind went rattling away trying to trace the memories which seemed a sensible occupation for my wayward thoughts.

Thrawn was nowhere to be seen. That was comforting in on the one hand, but on the other he tended to pop up at unexpected times in unexpected moments and I was not sure how well I'd deal with that right now. I made my way slowly to the double ring of displays in the middle of the room and then onwards, meandering through the exhibits in a leisurely pace.

I stopped in front of one that looked as if somebody had taken apart Terrik's red Star Destroyer (of which I was not certain it already existed) and rearranged it after plans drawn by Picasso. Another sculpture was possible a highly stylised humanoid (I didn't dare think 'human', too much alien art in his Admiral's portfolio for that) reaching upwards. It might have been the galaxy's most slender wave, though for all the curved grace it displayed. Unthinking, I tried to run my finger along its brink and watched with disappointment it went right through the hologram.

"A pity, isn't it?" Thrawn had appeared on the side of the room, far enough away so I didn't jump and his tone was nothing if not casual.

I cleared my throat. This was a rather unexpected turn, if only because I was not the most intelligent of people and hadn't considered the necessity to start a normal conversation with him somehow. Confronted with the decision of discussing either the impeding intimate relationship or Chiss art, I lunged at the latter.

"It really tempts you to touch it, run your fingers along the ridge," I replied

"It is based on the ritual daggers of the Nereden Anof''orere. Alike to most other figurines of this type it has a very sharp edge indeed that can inflict nasty cuts."

I retracted my hand hastily. Well, gulp. Chiss had a nice notion of art. Not that Thrawn seemed to mind as he approached, explaining some of the finer points of the sculpture. I tensed, but he stayed well out of my personal space. Not that this did anything to lessen the tension.

Thrawn lectured on as if nothing was amiss. The sculpture of the dagger-wave-man tied in to a choice of paintings depicting polar wastes in so many shades of white that is was dazzling and I was not certain they could be told from abstract art from looking at them. He was serious about this. That was probably not good? Regardless of what the other possible subjects were, I couldn't help asking if this was really necessary.

"It is inevitable, that you should be at least superficially acquainted with them."

"I understand that, I was wondering about discussing them in detail. I'd be even more out of my depth than usual." I sighed. "I am not even sure I now the correct words in my native tongue."

"In which case learning the correct vocabulary now is a most sensible idea. Or do you think the right words in Basic will do you any good?"

I sighed again. "No, Cheunh is really the only option," I conceded.

"8. You have to keep a better reign on your thoughts."

Oh, really? If he only knew. "For once, I was actually not even thinking it, _Eight_." I replied. "But you can keep the tally seeing how it crept right back into this answer."

"Acceptable." And he returned to discussing the paintings without missing a beat. After the initial explanations the conversation drifted off into technicalities and trying to figure out what some Cheunh words meant which I didn't even know the equivalents in English or German for. Composition didn't even start to suffice.

It didn't take long to have my head swimming, long tangled words of Cheunh knotting up my synapses mercilessly. But the new Thrawn seemed to have been buried again, because it did take a long time afterwards to finally get off the topic of art. Somehow I wouldn't have been sad to never see a single painting again. I am sure Thrawn disapproved.

At least we were then on the topic of Byss, Luke and Jaing and the concessions and command structure and how things were supposed to work overall. I was also not doing such a good job, and the military topic facilitated a lot of those nasty slips. It was frustrating on many levels, but keeping my mind effectively from my fears at lunchtime. Something was definitely going wrong here.

"Give this to Skirata and Skywalker." He gave me a stack of datacards. "It is better than concessions."

"Sir-" I felt like wailing.

"17," he interrupted. "Trust me, Mellanna."

With a sigh I gave up. "If I return piecemeal, I'll have 'Told You So', tattooed on each bit."

"I will have a taxidermist create a nice sculpture out of them," he assured me. "Look through the details so you can stand up for them credibly."

Taking the cards I didn't even raise the question if I wanted to defend those plans. And then realised that our fingers had touched and I hadn't even noticed. I looked from my hands to his and back, wrinkling my brow. I was missing something here. If only I knew what. Only when I slumped down in front of my terminal did it slowly dawn on me. The quivering nervousness had been gone. And I was damned if I knew where to.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

.

.

.

* * *

*Don't Let It Show - Alan Parsons Project

* Du Trägst Keine Liebe In Dir - Echt

*Kiss Me - Six Pence None The Richer

* Breathless - The Corrs

* Stars - Roxette


	153. 152

One-Hundred and Fifty-Two

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!_

To my surprise my pad beeped at me as if annoyed when I picked it up. I checked what it wanted and found, to my even greater surprise, an assignment. It was from Thrawn which was probably not surprising at all and told me to contact Krennel and conduct preliminary talks about possibly meeting and maybe even forming an alliance with Isard.

I decided that this could wait until after breakfast and also after lessons with Seros. And I realised I didn't even mind. Calling people on the phone had sure been one of the things I really hated, but comming them was different. Maybe it was that you usually got to see the people you called. Not so Krennel, who insisted on a voice-only chat. I dropped some heavy hints about how disappointing that was considering his looks, but even though he definitely basked in the attention. I am not sure I really managed to radiate barely suppressed admiration, there was some _lor'kina_ lingering all over me that just wouldn't go.

Seros was keeping me company at lunch and then Fi and Lyk teamed up to teach me how to work together with my bodyguard under fire instead of getting between his feet. For that I finally got my own blasters back which suddenly sported a fully functional stun setting. Not that it helped any as my shots generally went wide. The only person I might have hit successfully sometimes was Rukh. I saw where this kind of exercise was necessary.

Thrawn kept talking about art and was a perfect gentlemen except for a few very well concerted intrusions that set my head spinning for no obvious reason. There was also a fundamental uncertainty about his attitude towards my personal space. Sometimes he respected it down to a t and sometimes he just ignored it as if there was no difference between an inch an a foot. And that was not taking the fact into consideration that a even foot was not quite the right amount of personal space.

This affected my shooting in such a way that Lyk made a habit of telling me exactly what his Admiralship had been doing last time I met him which almost led me to making a habit of shooting his face. Lyk's, that is. I was somewhat reluctant to apply force to Thrawn.

When I met up with Dave to get some instructions about meeting Jaing and Luke - which seemed to be happening in the close future though I wasn't told anything about it - I was happy I had not killed his squad mate in a fit of annoyance. He'd sure have taken it badly. And seeing the men I had surrounded myself with, Dave was suddenly the most comfortable one to be with. I trusted him, we worked together towards a goal both of us wanted very much to come true and actually agreed on what the goal was and how to achieve it. It was clear-cut and easy.

Krennel was also pretty straightforward. A dose of flattery mixed with all the right signals assured him of my sincerity. Because, really, who could resist a hunk like him? It was an easy role to play, I had been a fangirl often enough and all I had to do was tone that down a little. There was no danger at all that anything would develop from this, even if he thought so. And I made sure he did. Body language was easy once you realised how much body you had to speak that language with.

It was also very nice to be the one pulling the strings for a change and not earning but a raised brow in return for your efforts. Or a random number that was slowly approaching triple digits. Sometimes I was sure Thrawn was following some kind of sinister plan with that and provoked 'sirs' on purpose. That thought worried me almost more than the unspoken subject of impregnation hovering between us.

But so far nothing had happened which was very worrisome and, I came to realise, also annoying and disappointing and overall bothering me in many ways, many of which I didn't look at too closely. Mostly.

_Because you don't like what you find._

I didn't have to, I just had to accept it. And that was difficult. It really, truly was. And so I tried to forget about it while I could and tried to bury the irritation about being able to do so as good as I could.

_You lost_, I realised looking at the man standing a little away and explaining the more subtle approach to repositioning Krennel we were by then following. I was glad that my part leaned towards the more straightforward in the intricate pattern. Simply trying to follow Thrawn's train of thought caused me headaches.

Getting whacked over the head for simulated abduction had the same effect, but Lyk relented after a while and I was allowed to have a plain workout at the end of which I regretted the day sweat was invented and was ready to elevate the inventor of showers, even sonic ones, into the Olympus. I slipped into a fresh jumpsuit looking forward to going to sleep soon. All that was standing between me and my bed was his Admiralship who could not be ignored. Almost like that very thought sending a literal image of this kind of obstruction happening complete with funny ideas.

Pushing those aside I headed towards the command room dreading the looming discussions of art. Thrawn refused to discuss the novel I read until I was finished with it, but lately getting on with that became more and more difficult. I wished for something easy to do for a change, got the usual proposal from myself and shook it off. That was getting more and more difficult as well.

"You will have no trouble dealing with Krennel," Thrawn said. "You are perfectly equipped to carry this out."

It felt good to hear this out loud. "I only wished your assurance would give me more faith in my abilities."

"You can only do that yourself."

"I'll work on it."

"89," he commented.

"You keep counting 'sirs' I am not saying," I complained.

"I have to make sure you stop thinking them," he replied. For all I could tell, he was dead serious. And impossible, obnoxious even. He also still kept mostly out of my personal space. It was most irritating. I didn't know how to react.

_Then stop it._

Stop I did and turned the thought over in my head. Thrawn was impossibly good at keeping me unbalanced, perched precariously on the edge forever unsure how to react. And this would be it. Forever. Unless.

„Mellanna?"

„I am thinking."

„A laudable notion. May I inquire what about?"

I shook my head. „No." That would only make things more complicated. Just look at him, I told myself. What do you see? That it was too late. I lowered my head, closed my eyes and tried to take one deep breath. I would not react. I would just not react. Nodding to myself I returned into the here-and-now. Thrawn was watching with polite interest. My lip quirked up. Of course, he would.

You can't run; you can't hide. And even if Thrawn hadn't known where to find me, _I_ certainly did. This was not the time to react to it. For once, the only way out was to _act_.

_What do you want?_ But that was just it, I knew and it didn't add up; it was completely unrelated. I took a step forward into what made up his personal space. It felt decidedly strange and tingly. Not to mention that simply raising a brow was not really an answer to that and not making things any better either.

"To which conclusion have you come?" he finally deigned to ask.

"One I was trying to avoid." I smiled despite feeling rather mournful. Losing never was fun, even if it was just yourself on the winning side. It wasn't easy, this war within, but might get easier. I didn't have to win, didn't have to lose - I could choose…* And the smile suddenly didn't feel so sad anymore. And another step brought my face almost up against his shoulder. "The inevitable one, though."

Instead of an answer I got what was almost a smile and an accelerated heartbeat as I forbade myself to drawn back from the face slowly turning towards mine. The inevitable result of two converging vectors, apart from a tingling paralysis on my part, was a completely predictable skin contact that still elicited a soft 'oh' from me which escaped only from my lips into his. For a broken heartbeat I shut down completely.

What slowly brought me back was the taste of brass mixed with the tinkling ice-blue glitter of glaciers, cold and sharp despite the feeling that its temperature was actually higher than mine. Not to mention some thermonucelar fusion that was blazing outwards from somewhere around my stomach. Still I felt incapable to move as the problem -

- the _real_ problem, I had to admit, would be my refusal to admit that I might just have, probably hopelessly, fallen for a guy who - well, who at least cared enough about getting back home to make me feel loved. And it was not really my fault that he knew how to lay one on you, right? The sudden touch of air on my lips startled me out of my reverie just in time to catch a glimpse of lightning flashing in his eyes.

I was lost and I knew it. And so did he.

"Of those," his lips grazed the skin of my neck softly, "you owe me 89," he said.

Oh.

Well.

I swallowed. So this was what he had been collecting. Sneaky bastard. No way around it really. I began to map my way out along his jaw, trying to think up an innocuous a way down his throat. And then - generally down and around. Better not to think about it to clearly, because faced with the inevitable prospect of getting my mouth on that blue skin, finding out first hand, if he needed to shave and just look at that jawline... I was still staring hesitantly expectant.

"Hopeless case."

My gaze focussed again and I felt my face blush violently. This should be the time when I had my hands all over him, not slightly shaking at my sides.

"Lay back and think of the Empire, I think they say?"

My eyes snapped upwards and if there had ever been a flicker in his eyes, now there was a complete fireworks going off. Oh, he was certainly amused. I tried to fight the flood of sensations and images washing over me, especially the one of Temuera Morrison wearing nothing but two feathers in his hair. That had nothing to do with anything. Though it might serve as a good distraction from imagining Thrawn with nothing but two feathers - oh, boy, I was such a goner.

This is how the world ends, I thought, staring transfixed at the Grand Admiral-shaped temptation before me. And there was nowhere to run, nothing to do, but ...

This motionless silence was rather awkward. I wondered if it would help if I said something stupid, not that I was in a state to say, or do, anything that was not stupid.

"Your insecurity is charming, if misplaced," his Admiralship informed me.

Maybe it would be a step in the right direction if I stopped calling him that. I closed my eyes shortly, trying to hammer his name into my mind. Thrawn, you call him Thrawn. Now if I could just stop being torn, embarrassed, conflicted and nervous, everything had a chance of proceeding without much embarrassment. Opening my eyes again, I laid my hands on his chest. Phew, step one mastered.

I stared at the white uniform. This was not easy. Though it should be. At least the cloth was soft and smooth; and I would soon find out how such a uniform opened. Research completed.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

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* Pet Shop Boys - Happiness is an Option

The mentioned image of Mr. Morrison exists, should you be interested...

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**Author's Note:** Everybody interested in what happens behind the closed doors now can be grateful to two facts:

1) I am venal; very much so.  
2) I have been offered chocolate with green tea filling for writing this.

Add those two and you get a few pages of PWP. Too much to fit a message on tf.n but I'll mail. I also accept green tea filled chocolate indiscriminately ^.^' (Links to chocolate can be included with mails. The stuff seems to be difficult to find.)  
Just remember the add-on is only action, no plot at all. You have been warned.


	154. 153

One-Hundred and Fifty-Three

I was not shouted awake and still somehow I was. I looked around bedraggled, feeling somewhat misplaced when my head caught up with the events. Oh.

I sighed with relief when I found the bed next to me empty. This felt all very awkward. I got up and padded into the fresher. That turned out to be not that good a plan. There was a Grand Admiral showering already. Naked Grand Admirals in the morning - way to shock a girl awake!

I grabbed the tooth-cleaner and considered very consciously if the lack of being shouted at would wake you up as much as getting shouted at. At the same time, I concentrated solely on cleaning my teeth. Maybe I should have run for it, but a showering Thrawn is enough to make your mind stop.

"Use water," he advised as he passed me on his way out. "The sonic has been proved to be adverse effects on impregnation."

Now that was very romantic of him. Somehow, romantic did not seem to be in his vocabulary, but what _had_ I expected? It was probably a huge concession for him not to kick me out in the middle of the night. Well, maybe he had just been too tired for that. I mulled it over. Yes, definitely a plausible option. I took a long cold shower.

There were towels waiting for me when I exited the shower; I should have thought of brining my jumpsuit with me. Retrieving it turned out difficult because through the door I got a glimpse of what a Grand Admiral wore for breakfast: full uniform - or nothing. My scatterbrained search for clothes only served to bring the jumpsuit to light.

I was considering to join Thrawn's clothes-free attitude by necessity as I could not quite find where my underwear had gone to when another thought hit me. „So how do we explain those sleepovers?" I asked him. „I think _some_body will notice my spending the nights here."

He looked at me, considering something I wasn't privy to before getting up. „The former commander of the ship has taken care of that problem; rather unintentionally, I am sure." He gestured me back towards the sleeping room and I studiously avoided to think anything except that it really hadn't been necessary at all to put a hand on the small of my back to guide me along.

At the right side of the bed head he slid open the bulkhead. I went to have a look and found myself staring open mouthed into my quarter just between the bunk and the fresher. What the…?

„Admiral Pencron seemed in need of the services of his personal Adjutant quite often despite having had his personal – entrainment suite next to his quarters."

I was dumbstruck and tried to find innocuous uses for a door like this rather urgently. Not that it worked and somehow the idea that a door like this led into the former entertainment suite was no better. Ick.

„You may use it at your convenience," Thrawn informed me. „Should the door to the secondary command room be closed, I am busy."

„And I won't show my face. Got it." I still couldn't get over the fact that – and of course there was no reason why Arn should have – which meant – „So where is Arn quartered now?"

„The secondary adjutant's quarter," he replied. „Which does not feature a direct connection to my suite," he added like an afterthought.

Ick. Ick,ick ick! Finally I tore my gaze away from my quarter - fighting a small voice commenting that there had been but a sheet of metal between me and Thrawn for quite a while now which was nothing I wanted to think about – when something tiny and black caught my eye.

„There you are!" I picked up the piece of stray underwear triumphantly. It turned out to be the panties and I diligently ignored the bemusedly exasperated Grand Admiral as I put it on and grabbed for my jumpsuit. Not that my bra was anywhere to be seen. Oh well.

„Mellanna." He sounded almost unnerved. „Since you had a very early meeting scheduled with me today, you better go out the front door."

Oh.

Well, I had come in that was so it was making some kind of sense that I leave that way again. I glanced around a last time then zipped up with a shrug. „Got it. And," I hesitated, „well, should you find," this was strangely embarrassing, „my-, the other half of my underwear…" Why was I turning into a red light bulb now?

„I know where to find you."

„Yes, thank you."

„I am tempted to start counting again," he reprimanded me sternly.

„Do that, sir," I said with a broad grin and bolted before he could say anything else.

The corridor was deserted and I wondered if it was the time or the fact that this was high echelon territory or both. Anyway, I got back to my quarters quick enough to change and even grab a cup of tea before seeing Seros. I was still missing Arn, but only in an indirect way thinking how embarrassing meeting with him for breakfast would have been.

I don't know how Seros had gained knowledge of the incident at lunch, though I should have been prepared somehow. He wasn't the kind to give me a task and then just let it be. At lest I seemed to have done acceptable. Though I hadn't gotten what I was supposed to get, I had found a way out of the dilemma allowing both sides to keep their face. Seros had a lot to say about that.

Keeping your face was important. I had never given it a thought, seeing how I didn't think I had much of a face to keep. Or one for which losing it and getting a new one might be an improvement. But being an important person, or at least impersonating one, demanded that I think about this before I act. Since I saw the use of this, I actually was paying attention.

Lyk watched in complete silence as I went on to shoot more or less accurate at my intended targets. This worried me. I wondered how much he could read and how much more that would be if I didn't manage to suppress a blush. I did and started to be really proud of myself until I realised that my aim was now way off. I just couldn't win.

Or at least not against anybody on board of this friggin ship. I grinned at Krennel expressing my excitement about being able to meet him so soon. He smiled back, secure in the knowledge that I was dying to see him and more, but he'd be the one to make all the calls. I shuttered my smirk behind the _lor'kina,_ applied in an unusual way but no less effective.

"You really need to see the developments on Chazwa," he insisted. "After pretending to abandon it, Isard has picked up the pieces quite nicely."

"I would be delighted," I replied. My enthusiasm was only half played. I was excited to get my feet back onto dirt and rock again, it didn't matter what excuse was necessary. "I have seen the damage that was done in the years after its abandonment. It would be good to know how she went about it. Maybe we can use her strategies as a template."

"I am looking forward to discuss the details with you."

He was. And he was preparing a short, out of the way meeting and to pull wool over my eyes and keep me in the dark and then possibly do things to me he considered pleasurable. It was difficult not to like him, he was so obvious. So I smiled and nodded and left him to his plans and dreams. Then I went to comm Fi and ask for some extra training in close combat just in case.

Fi grinned almost as wolfish as Lyk as the showed me how to incapacitate a man more than one way. Buried under a bulk of clone, I was glad this exercise wasn't taught by Dave.

"You still got you teeth," Fi told me. "Are they not within reach of quite a lot of damage?"

Since I was not going to actually damage him, he could grin and be generally happy about the whole procedure. "Now," he pushed himself away and turned me over, "on to the more difficult bits."

I felt pretty roughed up and hoped Greras had fixed my teeth well when I plopped down opposite to Dave. All I had to do was explain Thrawn's battle plan and realise where the parts were that I could, after heated argumentation, let up and concede specified points in very specified ways. I didn't wonder if Jaing or Luke would ask for those very specifications; I was quite sure they would.

And then, rather suddenly, I had reached the end of my schedule and there was still some day left over. I chewed on my lip, stared at my terminal and found no way around the inevitable. Rolling my shoulders I decided that it should be a lot less uncomfortable and awkward. Only that it wasn't.

It felt strange to slide open the wall between my bunk and fresher and slip silently into the rooms behind. Thrawn's rooms, I told myself firmly. I'd gain nothing by not calling a spade a spade. Or Thrawn's bedroom his bedroom in this case. My cheeks were burning for no reason at all. Well.

To avoid the spade at least for the moment, I set off towards the former pleasure suite. I sure liked it better as an art museum. I was detained by a lounge that had managed to escape my notices so far. That was an amazing feat seeing how big it was, sporting two couches and armchairs, a low table out of dark wood and a chest of drawers.

There was, rather unsurprising, a picture hung over one sofa showing, even less surprising, an icy waste in shades of grey and brownish white. I looked at it for a long time wondering if it was depicting something on Csilla, or just looked like it might have been on Csilla or if his Admiralship just liked snowy pictures.

And then there was this thick burgundy carpet. I couldn't resist and took of boots and socks to sink my feet into the soft texture. What next? This might be the best moment to rifle through his cupboards. Amazing as it was, the last night had not shed any light on the briefs or boxers question.

Before I could make up my mind, the door opened and Thrawn entered. He looked me over, hesitating almost imperceptibly at my feet. "You do realize that just because your schedule for the day is completed that does not mean you have to show up here immediately"

I curled my toes around the thick burgundy softness under my soles. Now, that was good to know if a bit late for that day. It also worried me that with Thrawn present the awkwardness wasn't diminishing any, quite to the contrary. My mind raced to find a conversation topic and failed spectacularly. It only got the idea of removing all clothing since the awkwardness vanished with the clothes the night before.

Granted, a naked Grand Admiral was still a problem, but only a physical one and one I could handle. Whereas a fully clothed Grand Admiral was a bunch of problems, none of which I wanted to deal with. So I decided I wouldn't.

I could do this. I would deal with dressed problems later. Never if possible. I pushed a formally dressed former fiancée from my thoughts, grabbed my boots, and went to the bedroom peeling off the uniform as I went. Then I took a moment to look down my body and shook my head in resignation.

Returning, I planted myself in front of him, my hands on my hips. "I demand prettier underwear! This," I snapped the strap of the no-nonsense bra, "might be all very practical, but it is aesthetically way below my usual standards."

"I see."

A more elaborate answer might have helped to alleviate the awkwardness, but I was in over my head now.

"You don't have to do this."

I paused, looking at my hands. Because I did, I very much did have to do this. I didn't know any other way to handle my discomfort, my reluctance, my contradictions. For a self-proclaimed writer, I sure had a difficult time with words right now. Maybe I could blame it on having to say them instead of being able to put them down.

Finally I looked up with a grin. "I know. And this is very convenient, because it means that I can leave any moment, should this not be satisfactory."

The following time was partly spent very satisfactory. And nobody had told him to put his arms around me as I nodded off and I thought the whole idea rather excellent.

_Of course he's impeccable_, a voice nagged. Because, no matter how long this takes, it is not going to take really long and he can afford to be thorough. Not to mention that it would help enormously if I kept real fond memories of him. I told the voice to shut up. I told myself to forget that drivel, but even I knew that I wouldn't. I couldn't.

But for now, if only for now, I'd just enjoy the moment. If I could.

"You seem unhappy."

"Voices," I only mumbled rolling onto my back and staring at the ceiling.

"It seems that intercourse is not capable of silencing them permanently," he observed.

"Oh, temporarily is fine," I assured hastily. A bit too hastily most likely. I was an idiot.

"It is still unacceptable," he insisted. "But working on the one doesn't preclude the other."

Oh great. Just great. I got up and felt like pacing. Only you didn't pace in a Grand Admirals quarters stark naked in the middle of the night. So I locked myself up in the fresher. It was too small to pace effectively and I soon found myself staring at the face in the mirror.

"Can't you just shut up?" I asked her. But she was most stubborn. "What do you want?"

_To be happy_, was the reply, _even in the future._

Well, I could forget about that. And since that was how it was, why should I not enjoy myself while I could? "Being happy in the future," I told her, "is all about being happy _now_ for the rest of all nows. And _right now_ is a great moment to start implementing this practice."

A staring match ensued in which neither of us wanted to lose. In the end we looked away simultaneously. I considered the door pensively. What would happen when I went out there? Whatever I needed. I wanted to curl up in his arms and feel protected, so that was what I would get. Except if I got so mad about this now, that I wanted a verbal sparring and then leave. In which case that would be exactly what happened.

_Be careful what you wish for, it might come true._ It had, and as it was in such allegories, I was not happy. The thought of clicking my heels and go home crossed my mind, but I discarded it immediately. It was out of the question. _I'm in over my head. _Not to mention my heart. And I wanted it back, or at least another in return.

"I want him to love me," I told the door quietly. Such stupidity didn't warrant a reply and I didn't get one.

When I exited the fresher again the room was dark except for a very dim light that outlined just enough of the room so I didn't run into the furniture. A dark figure lay almost motionless on the bed, breathing regularly, maybe pretending for my sake, maybe truly asleep. It didn't really matter, did it?

I sat down on the edge of the bed, putting my elbows on my knees and resting my face in my hands. For the longest time I just sat there, doing nothing, thinking nothing feeling nothing but the grey void inside. I contemplated crying a few times, but never got further than a few ragged breaths. I wanted to stop it and I wanted to stop fighting it and I wasn't even sure what it was.

And I was so caught up in myself that I only realized that Thrawn had stirred when I felt a reassuring hand on my back. "Do you think you can sleep?"

I only sighed and turned the question over and over in my head not coming to a clear answer. A little later I stumbled back to my own room, despairing at the minimal amount of time left before I'd have to get up again and leave.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	155. 154

One-Hundred and Fifty-Four

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it! _

It was very much too early and I stumbled into the 'fresher with my eyes only half open. My hand reached automatically for the sonic and found it tentatively taped off. With a sigh I turned on the water and soon after dripped all over the floor of my quarters. This was not my fault and his Admiralship's minions could take care of the flood.

Grabbing my duffel bag I stumbled towards the hangars as dignified as I could. My stomach rumbled but I didn't feel like eating. I felt like sulking. I was good at that; I really was. In stubborn silence I got through the start up routine and had the _Liberty_ set into space below the _Chimaera_. Then I punched in the coordinates for Chazwa. The nav computer took its time to calculate a course and with the pulling of the lever, the stars turned into the gap ridden carpet of hyperspace.

For a second I closed my eyes against the pale blue of it. Then I went to the galley to grumble some more and have some kind of breakfast. I felt – empty. I should have been relieved or sad or – something. Sitting at the small table I stared at its top, seeing nothing. My stomach proclaimed its existence. With a sigh I got up to browse through the provisions. I didn't feel like eating. I didn't feel like doing anything and planned to do that for the whole day-long trip if Rukh let me.

"You want breakfast?" I asked him when he entered the galley. And wanted to know what, when he nodded.

"Whatever you'll have," he replied.

"I think not," I said, looking down at my choice: ration bars, water and a sticky vitamin syrupy kind of drink.

Rukh followed my gaze and agreed. But then he also insisted on preparing his food himself. I felt robbed of the chance to do something useful, and to do something nice for him and also grateful because I could stay grumpy and stare at the table top. The scent of food reached me distantly. I chewed on the ration bar. I wanted to think. I think. I didn't dare to. Most likely.

What _have_ you done? And what _had_ I been thinking?

I stopped my mind before it went into a detailed answer of the first question. Yeah, that, and that, and that, too and I'd do it all over again. Not quite my problem, or just a symptom really. A short recapitulation showed that I had not been thinking any useful kind of thoughts either.

You're an idiot.

But I can love him. But can he love you? Does that matter? What do you think? You're overreacting. It does matter. It doesn't. You wish. I do indeed. So where does it leave me? Here. Not good enough. Nothing new there. But the plan made headway. With your own head in the way? Don't make me laugh. Didn't intend to. It's not that bad. That only makes it worse. What was that bit about being happy? Oh shut up.

You're just a jealous space hussy. And you're a shameless fangirl that lost her grip on reality. For the greater good! Selfish bitch. With this kind of thoughts? What other kind is there? Well, there's _that_ – No way! Prude! Slut! Prig! Lecher! Hopeless daydreamer. It was not my idea. Was too. I didn't think this through. You never do. Might be better that way. Oh, really? It doesn't have to make sense; you never do.

The squabbling went on and didn't get better. Maybe doing something would help, but I felt paralysed. And a bit crazy for talking to me like that, I couldn't remember the last time I had argued with me so ferociously. Probably never, I realised, because my whole future had never been in danger. And it wasn't now. Like hell it was not. He didn't love me. I couldn't _know_. Only that, of course, I _knew_.

Of course, I could always just ask. All misunderstandings of the avoidable sort and unnecessary complications I knew of came down to communication that hadn't happened. Yah. So apart from the question if I ever dared to ask him, there was also the question if I really wanted to hear the answer. And what I'd do with it. Let's think this through logically. What were his options?

He could state the truth. "I'm not, but I am doing my best to make you feel loved so at least you love me and can see this through." Hearing that spoken aloud would just crumble any resolve I had and catapult me right out of the plan. So it was not going to happen.

He could try something a few notches nicer by saying "I'm working on it". Which would be only a bit of a white lie. It was not as if I had given him a lot to work with. I mean, really.

Which left the third option going along the lines of "Yes, of course." For which I'd call him a big fat liar. I mean, come on. A Grand Admiral like him and a girl like me? No way. I mean, really? No. Just no.

And then there was that fiancée. Gah, she must be the most amazing woman to ever walk the galaxy. After all she was engaged to Thrawn! What would it it take? Maybe I should really be more grateful that there was no former wife on Csilla with some kids frolicking around. Well, with the time past, I morphed the kids into serious young Chiss with grave expressions. And the woman, she might have moved on. I tried to imagine that, but couldn't. Come on, we were talking about Thrawn. I know I wouldn't move on. Like ever.

Wait a minute, hold it right there, hold that thought! Had I really just been thinking that? Hold. That. Thought! I needed it. I had to treasure it. No, I had to plaster it all over me, up and down and all around. It was just what I needed. Something good. Something positive. Something to latch onto. I would not. But to not do that, I'd have to get him first. No matter, I told myself. Hold that thought.

I dropped my head onto the table, ready to cry and not able to. I had shovelled this grave myself. There was a lot I could have done different and hadn't. There had been no need at all to suggest this. The end of the galaxy crept up and breathed down my neck. Well, okay. Maybe there was a good reason to do this. And maybe it was okay if it was not all punishment. And anyway, I had always had a soft spot for Thrawn. So. There.

I blinked into my lower arms. Provided things had turned out differently, I'd sure as hell had always regretted that they hadn't led me down this road. More than I could ever regret being a stupid, predictable, naïve, idiot of a fangirl. It could be worse, I told myself. I was not quite sure how, but it could be worse. At least I was smitten and only hated myself for it in irregular intervals. I'd live.

Both my inner voices coughed on shards of laughter at that. Of course I would. What use would I be otherwise?

"Rukh?" I lifted my head minimally. The Noghri was not there. The galley showed not a single sign that he ever head. Left to my own devices, up against my own principles, judged by the schizophrenic psycho of my mind... But I had said 'whatever' and this was it.

Shouldn't be so complicated, even with Thrawn in the middle of this confusing net. Started out clean but I'm jaded. And so scared that I'd never get put back together. And I wouldn't, because there was no way to return to where I had come from. I clamped my lips together trying to ban the melody from my mind*. But it was never enough because I was still me and all the pieces I felt hurt.

I got up and stared down the small stove. This is how I will end. And I had seen it coming and accelerated my own downfall and there was really nobody to blame, not even his Admiralship. I fought a sad smirk trying to think what he had thought when I had first produced this overall silly plan.

Scared, bent, broken – yes. I straightened my shoulders. That was me. So bring it on. For the game never ends, another song chimed in.* No, it didn't. I smiled because I would find myself a friendly card. Now that was an idea that had potential.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

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* Matchbox 20 - Bent

* Alan Parsons Project - The Turn of a Friendly Card


	156. 155

One-Hundred and Fifty-Five

I found Rukh in the cockpit, looking through some kind of stats. I sat down in the pilot's seat and called up the files of Chazwa. "Thank you for always being there hen I need you," I said with my eyes on my display. I still knew when he turned his head towards me.

"I am here."

"Yes," I confirmed. "As I said." I looked at him with a smile. "So, Chazwa."

"An Imperial Fortress World," Rukh said. "You know about those?"

I pulled out my files. "They used to be all over the place, heavily defended planets which were supposed to be as unconquerable as the Titanic unsinkable." Rukh looked at me. "It was a ship on my homeworld," I explained. "The builders boasted that it could not sink because it was too advanced and well-built. It sank on its maiden trip."

"You do not think a world can be protected like that?"

"No." I shook my head. "There is always a way around everything, you just have to find it. You need to stay flexible, adaptable to the attack you're facing. Bricking yourself in doesn't help there."

"So what do you suggest to keep safe?", he asked.

"I don't know," I replied. "That would depend on what you want to keep safe and where your priorities are. Information? If you want to make sure none gets ever lost you need a big system that keeps working with parts of it down, something you cannot shut down or control from a single place. Of course that makes it vulnerable for hacking into it and leaking information.

"If you want to make sure the information doesn't go anywhere – destroy it. If you still need it, hide it really really well and protect it as invisibly as possible. In a general way it's the same for all stuff, even people, though you might want to keep in mind that people are people if you push them around a lot or hide them away."

"You suggest a diaspora."

"If you want to make sure the people survive, yes. If you want to make sure their culture survives it takes a bit more work. And if you want the culture to survive as it is now forever, you might as well take a blaster bolt in the head right now. Do your people really want to settle on Wayland?"

He took his time before he answered. "I do not know, I think so."

"You'll find out when you visit them." I stared at the mesmerising movements of hyperspace. Maybe Rukh hadn't wanted to talk about his people. Maybe I had been jumping conclusions. Maybe I should apologise.

"_When_?"

Oh yes, when, not if. I turned to look at him. "Or course. If you want to go to Csilla with me, you should visit them before we leave. You might never see them again."

"That was always the risk," he told me softly.

"But," I broke off. Yes, that had been a danger for all his life. Service in the Empire didn't guarantee long life and retirement to watch your grandchildren play. Rather the opposite. "But now you can. Don't you want to?"

"My honour is compromised." It was not necessary for him to elaborate.

"You did well. You would have succeeded but for me."

His black eyes rested on me for a long moment. "You are so sure about it."

"Yes. I _know_ it. Just as I know that Skywalker would kill C'baoth and Jade would take care of Skywalker's clone. Just as sure as I knew when and how you would act. I knew. I know. Pellaeon would have had called a retreat at Bilbringi as it was then a losing battle and the descent of the Empire would have been unstoppable. Where as now-" I didn't know how to go on.

"You do not know?"

"I think, but I am not sure. Nobody thought it necessary to fill me in." I did not mention that it might just have been enough to ask Thrawn to get at least some answers. Damned obligation to collect.

"He fought the Republic to within an inch to victory, then told them he'd talk to them later, offering all who listened to chose a side that could actually protect them."

"He did." I blinked. "And the Republic?"

"There are negotiations about some treaties that have the Republic very nervous," Rukh said.

I blinked again. And all that behind my back? Still I couldn't help but grin.

"You are happy about this?"

"I am happy people are using political means. That gets less people killed." I paused to think. "And what am I doing _here_?"

"What has to be done."

Now this was an answer without being one. What had Thrawn called it? A stream of hot air? "What I mean is, why am I here, when the Republic is worried somewhere completely else?"

"You are a trump, Mellanna. You are not played unless absolutely necessary."

I was dumbstruck. Did he mean to say I was like – important? "I don't see how I could trump anyone." I sighed.

"That doesn't matter. So far you have roughened up the political situation nicely whenever necessary."

"I am one big irritation." And also slightly irritated. There seemed to be so much going on. And I knew so little about it. It seemed as if I couldn't expected to get all information I might find useful delivered. Grumbling about his Admiralship, I started to browse the holonet. Yep, there was a dazzling amount of information right under my nose. I tried to think back and see what had kept me from doing this before. But somehow my mind didn't go any further than blue. Well, if that was no reason to be distracted.

I found myself staring at the screen without actually seeing anything. Yup, perfectly distracting. One day I should put my hands around his throat and throttle him a bit for all the things he made me find out for myself. And them some. Just as a precaution.

So, the Empire and the Republic were still pretty much at war, only there seemed to be a lot of unofficial cease fires around. The reason seemed to mystify people, but I had Byss at the back of my mind and was not surprised at all. We needed Luke. And that meant we had to cooperate with the Republic. Who, by the way, had suddenly started to say we?

Not that I had much of a choice anymore. I was at least his Admiralship's concubine. I was staring off into space again. I wondered how official my status would be in this part of the galaxy. I'd be gone. There was not much reason to acknowledge anything. I bit my lip. Then I shook the thoughts away and concentrated on the holonet again. There had to be a way to bookmark sites or get something like a subscription to news services.

In the end I found two news reporting organisations, one of which was rather Imperial, the other leaning towards the Republic. I wished there was an unbiased view onto the whole mess. And then I smiled and made a mental note before returning my attention to the fate of the future.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	157. 156

**Author's Note:** I will be offline until Monday, so this week's update is a bit early. ^.^'

* * *

We arrived a Chazwa half a day and a nap later. From above it looked so much like Earth that I had to hold my breath for a strained minute. That was just as well, because it gave the ground control time to call on us. I let Rukh handle the formalities. Maybe it was right that I didn't stoop to do things like that myself. I was not quite sure how arrogant I was supposed to be. Very, was the likely answer.

"They are going to search the ship, right?" I stuffed all my personal belongings – which consisted of my pad – into my bag and dropped it at the top of the ramp.

Rukh didn't have to answer that question. We didn't set down in Iritsa but directly in one of the military outposts. I was tempted to assume it was the biggest or most important one. Seeing how Krennel was accommodated here, it would certainly be the most luxurious.

I checked my uniform a last time as the ramp lowered and sent a last encouraging glance at Rukh. I probably needed that more than him. Having to ignore and snub him for a while would be difficult. I had to be careful. But I had Imperial training and the lor'kina. So I would make use of both.

It was a good decision, because Krennel had dredged up a complete military welcome committee. Or at least something that could pass for one. He was over-egging the pudding for sure. Rows of soldiers and even some stormtroopers lined the landing platform, forming an alley at the end of which Krennel stood with what might have been advisors or adjutants at his side.

I strode across the duracrete a tad faster that procedure allowed sending appreciating looks at the assembled forces. I just hoped I gave the impression of doing this on a regular basis. I was afraid that was how I might end up. I prayed, I wouldn't. When I reached Krennel, I did what was hopefully a sharp salute. Accompanied by a huge grin. "Prince-Admiral Krennel!"

"At ease, Liaison Morrison," he replied doing his best not to reciprocate my smile.

I relaxed into what looked like ease to the untrained eye. "It's so good to see you again." I held out both hands which he automatically took. The prosthetic fingers tickled. "I did not see much from orbit. I am so looking forward to a complete tour."

"All in due time." He caved in and smiled. Though his eyes did tell me of the unlikelihood of a complete tour. "Let me show you to your quarters first, so you can rest for a while. I assume you will join me for dinner?" He offered his arm which I took with impeccable style. Oh yes, I had had lessons with Count Seros alright.

We arrived at huge double doors and Krennel let go of my arm to open them. I only glanced at the splendour shortly, not seeing anything. It looked accordingly unimpressed which was what I wanted. And I was sure it wouldn't have worked a bit, had I seen what the rooms were like.

"If they are not up to your expectations, if there is anything amiss," he looked into my eyes, "just let me know."

I was beaming now incapable to stop myself. "Thank you, Prince-Admiral. Please rest assured that, should I desire anything, I will call on you." Gah. I had to reign myself in if I wanted to get out of this with my virtual virginity intact. My grin was completely authentic by now, if a bit maniac. Poor Prince-Admiral.

"Did you bring an entourage?" he asked despite knowing the answer.

"No, and also not much luggage," I replied. "You people can take care of that. I left it at the top of the ramp of my ship."

There was a glint in his eyes promising a complete search of the _Liberty_. Excellent. Or something. "I will make it happen." He took my hand into his prosthetic right and bowed over it slightly. No kissing involved this time, his other hand laid firmly on the small of his back. "Rest now and refresh yourself, Liaison."

"Thank you; I will." I squeezed his artificial hand despite that being useless.

"I will have you collected around seven then." There was hint of a wink and he was gone.

Finally I turned to my rooms, but waited until Rukh had closed the doors before looking around. They were huge and beyond anything I had seen even in the Moff's Palace on Yaga Minor. It was a suite, and the word was a bit small for the place. It was huge. Had I had any bags, I would have dropped them with a cinematic gesture at my sides now.

It took a short walk to get through the room that was a hall and living room rolled in one. Dominated by a lounge with thickly upholstered sofas and chairs arranged around a stylish table and sinking deep into a plush carpet. Pictures in posh frames decorated the walls. Showy brick-a-brack was scattered around, there was even a life-size statue of a guy throwing something like a discus. I resisted the temptation to use him as a hat stand for my cap. Barely.

And because I was distracted by a bathroom the size of a small spa. A whirlpool equivalent was set into the floor, big enough to host an orgy of five. The shower had the size of my whole fresher, thick towels were hung over a heating device and a gazillion bottles and pots provided everything a woman might ever want in her bathroom. I was sure I wouldn't know what to do with half of the stuff.

The bedroom did not look big, but that was the fault of the four-poster. It was at least double the size of a normal bed. I sat down on the foot end, dangled my legs and felt tiny. Unpacking took about five minutes when my duffel bag arrived. It was not as if I had much. The few clothes looked rather lonely in the huge cupboard. I spent some time admiring the carvings on its doors.

A bit before seven there was a knock on the double doors. I was prepared for that and already in full dress. It was the only thing I had that was not a jump suit or work uniform. At least it might be a little appropriate.

Two guards were waiting for me outside, looking very strapping. As did Krennel, if a bit unhappy when he saw me approach.

"I admire your commitment to your work, Liaison, but I assure you that for tonight something less formal, something pretty, would have been perfectly acceptable."

I was tempted to tell him that it was either this or nothing, but taking his literal mind into consideration I'd rather not give him any ideas. "This is the only kind of pretty I have," I said instead.

He looked me up and down, probably searching for some curves, but this ensemble did wonders for hiding them. "I would have thought the Grand Admiral provided better for you."

"Well, he does have his strange little ways," I shrugged apologetically. I also ignored the voices inside my head babbling and arguing about uniform fetish.

"I think, I will have to intervene," Krennel finally said. "This state is intolerable."

"I am not sure that would be proper," I smiled shyly.

"I am sure it is not," he replied with a superior smile. "But who could reproach us?"

I took his arm again, shaking my head in mild resentment that was obviously fake.

"Allow me to help you out with this," Krennel continued, putting his hand (unfortunately the real one) over mine and leading me towards a waiting speeder. "Wouldn't it be a shame to make the world of beauty inaccessible to one of its most charming members?"

Gods, I loved his blunt approach. He really still clubbed a woman over the head to drag her off into his cave. "You are such refreshing company," I declared. "No comparison at all to the Grand Admiral."

Krennel made an indignant noise as he got into the speeder beside me. I had obviously affronted his honour. He snapped at the driver before returning his somewhat strainedly controlled attention back to me. "It's a miracle that Emperor Palpatine allowed him to stick around," he huffed.

"Yes, it is " I agreed.

"He was not good for much, constantly got sent off to the Unknown Regions for some mess up at the Imperial Court." Krennel was getting worked up about his Admiralship. Oh dear.

"Yes, it's not what I'd call a career." I sighed. "But somebody has to do the – ah – groundwork," I added.

The calming effect was fortunately immediate. I had no use for an angry Krennel, cute as he was. He might accidentally kill me and that was not part of the plan. "Yes, yes." He relaxed and leaned back into the soft seat. "Somebody has to get his hands dirty. And better some expendable alien upstart than a valuable member of the fleet."

I leant back as well, closing my eyes as I smiled. I would have quite some fun slagging off that alien upstart.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	158. 157

One-Hundred and Fifty Seven

The dinner was a very posh business with a gazillion of tiny courses. I was very glad about Seros' thorough training and only made a fool out of myself a little. Once my uniform and choice of topic had distracted Krennel from his more romantic intentions, it turned out to be a really nice evening.

Krennel knew what he was doing, though it was clear enough that sometimes he'd rather do something else, usually more drastic and violent. But Isard had her plans and he got enthusiastic about the progress on Chazwa. The armaments were moved below the surface, invisible from orbit.

"And we found a way to scramble what shows up on scans so the concentrations of suspicious materials in the ground doesn't show up unless you know exactly what you are looking for."

I had to agree that this was definitely great and a model for other fortress worlds to follow. "Cloaking shields," I suddenly added.

"What for?" He obviously knew about their drawbacks.

"To make something look empty," I explained and poked a piece of vegetable on my plate. "Build a row of sheds or something and install the shields inside. They'll always show up as empty. You could hide anything in there."

He looked at me for a long moment, then smiled tightly. "Troops, vehicles, weapons. The possibilities are endless."

"Even fighters," I chimed in.

He nodded indulgent of my innocent enthusiasm. "And you can get your hands on the schematics without the Grand Admiral noticing?"

"I can only try," I had to admit. "I am not sure about him noticing, he can be very closed lipped about what he notices or not. But you could try to get the plans from Bilbringi. They have built a few exemplars."

"The invisible siege of Imperial Centre," Krennel said putting two and two together. "An interesting, if unnecessarily faulty idea."

Had I not been waiting for a comment like that? It was uncanny how Krennel followed a script I had dreamed up in my head as if this was some kind of ficlet. My amount of control over the situation was almost scary. Somehow I hadn't been able to stop grinning all evening. Fun, fun, fun! I wondered if this was how Thrawn felt, but discarded the idea. Even an internally bouncing Thrawn was not a mental image that worked. Though it was kinda cute.

"Indeed, " I agreed happily. "They might have been well out of the fighting, but the communication was still intact. And the whole planet's resources were wasted. You couldn't land yourself. At all."

And off Krennel went on a happy rant against his Admiralship's many shortcomings and how things were so much better organised under his control. His prosthetic arm glowed red. Oh yes, the dinner had been great in every respect.

And then - my suite. I almost got lost in it when I returned. I blamed the almost black Togorian wine. Amazing stuff, like liquid velvet woven from blood and berries, and almost warm to the taste. And also rather intoxicating. I was ready to throw darts at unsuspecting Imperials which was probably just what Krennel had intended. After an odyssey through the bathroom, which found the whirlpool rather inconveniently situated in the middle of the room, I clambered into bed. It was so huge. I was lost under a sea of blankets on an ocean of pillows.

Despite my quite intoxicated state, I found it impossible to sleep. The mattress was so much softer than my bunk. That had to be it, I decided. I stared at the inside of my lids and waited for sleep. And it was certainly the size of the bed that made me feel all lost. A bed of this ridiculous size was not intended to be used by just one person. And there I cut my thoughts short and worked very hard on falling asleep.

Rukh woke me in the morning. He didn't shout. I was not sure if Noghri ever did and whether I wanted to her that. My head lolled about undignified, but I managed to shower without drowning. I was just getting dressed, when Rukh answered a knock on the door. He was now also a manservant? I was really putting him through too much. I hurried though I didn't think Krennel would show up at my door this early. It was barely past seven.

When I exited the bathroom, Rukh had already placed a tray on the table in the living room. Either he had ordered breakfast with uncanny foresight or somebody here was watching me closely which was even more worrisome. I sat down cross-legged in front of the low table on the thick carpet. "You're not supposed to let anybody in?" I guessed.

"Nobody except the Prince-Admiral and his proxy," the Noghri confirmed. A tiny scanner appeared out of nowhere in his hand, was run over the food before me and vanished again as mysteriously. I blinked a few times.

"Can I eat that?" I finally asked.

"You may eat."

I lifted the lid carefully finding an opulent choice of foods. There was no tea to be found though. Well, one thing to take to the Prince-Admiral. I giggled at the thought of that conversation. I was such a nasty bitch. For now I had to make do with caf, though. Then I nibbled on everything a little, and grateful to Seros' lessons on proper core-ish behaviour ate the whole bowl of grey glob with green juice. Then I made a big dent into the fruits as well. There's nothing to make your taste buds implode like a choice of intergalactic fruit. You never know what you will get. The laws of fruitiness seemed not to be not applicable here.

When I had finished it was still not even eight. I wondered what Prince-Admirals did at this time, but shrugged it off as uninteresting. Instead I opened the door of my suite. As expected there were guards in front of it. I was grinning again.

"Id like to look around the base," I informed them. "Can I just leave?"

The addressed guard consulted with somebody before returning his attention to me. I realised that his uniform had small differences from mine. Very interesting. "You may look around at your liberty, Liaison Morrison," he replied crisply. A guide to answer all your question will arrive in a moment."

"Splendid!" I almost bounced as if this surveillance tactic was completely lost on me. "When will the Prince-Admiral have time for me again?"

"He will take you on a tour of the facilities of the immediate surroundings after lunch," he informed me after some more consultation. "And there is your guide," he pointed down the corridor where a middle aged man with brown hair walked towards us. "Lieutenant-Commander Logan Roulsyn."

"Liaison Morrison." Lieutenant-Commander Roulsyn saluted.

I nodded in acknowledgement of his existence. "Show me around then."

"What would you like to see first?"

"Everything!"

His scowl told me exactly what he thought of such indiscriminate enthusiasm and ignorance. But he gestured me on anyway. Rukh fell in behind us making the poor man a little nervous. Too bad that this was exactly Rukh's job.

The tour was as interesting as it was irrelevant. Quarters, storage depots, vehicle sheds – at least Roulsyn had the presence of mind to include the training fields complete with a battalion of soldiers working out. A sight I can only recommend to all women in the world. He also launched a long explanation about training methods and all that while we were watching the work-out.

He answered all my questions patiently, the obviously stupid ones as well as the not so obviously sneaky ones. He was not quite convinced I was as ignorant as I seemed. I threw some very sensitive questions at him, making them look like somebody else's idea that I was repeating diligently if unaware of their actual importance. That helped to alleviated his fears, though it also robbed me of some information I'd rather have had. Being a stupid wench was not easy.

We went through some of the training sections and he showed me the medical facilities, the administration and he seemed surprised when I wanted to see the barracks of the normal soldiers as well. But he complied. The barracks were what I expected, and I even found an unwary soldier I could pounce.

"May I?" I looked from the young man to Roulsyn and back.

"Of course," he replied. "Go ahead."

I walked over to the soldier, signalling Rukh to stay behind. "What's your name?"

"Private Tevik, Liaison Morrison." He saluted crisply. I appreciated. the thorough briefeing of all personnel.

"How long do you serve the Empire, Private Tevik?" I wanted to know.

"Five years, Liaison Morrison."

"How much of it in this location?"

"Two years, Liaison Morrison." The title kept irritating me.

"Is it an easy job?"

He took a moment to think about this. "No, Ma'am," he then replied. "There is a consistent flow of new troops coming through this base to gain first experience. The constant fluctuation and change of personnel causes unrest and friction."

"It must be difficult to train new people all the time," I agreed. "I salute your spirit and stamina." Only, of course, I didn't literally. I didn't want him to laugh at me. "Go ahead."

When I returned to Lieutenant-Commander Roulsyn he had a clear question on his face.

"You have to keep contact with the simple soldiers," I explained with an optimistic smile. "Make them feel like they're an important and appreciated part of the whole effort."

Roulsyn nodded, taking my effort with the serenity of many years in service and having to deal with idealistic and unworldly brass bearers. Which left only the question of lunch unanswered before I could take off with Krennel.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	159. 158

One-Hundred and Fifty Eight

After lunch, which I spent with a rather surprised Roulsyn in the refectory of the medical section because in an unguarded moment I pounced on another unsuspecting soldier and asked him what the best canteen was on the compound. Since he claimed it was the one of the medical wing that was where I towed an exasperated Lieutenant-Commander Roulsyn to to have an authentic military food experience. It was indeed pretty good, lacking in the dessert department but what was new?

Anyway, after lunch Krennel picked me up with a speeder that looked too sleek to be normal military equipment. It fit his personal tastes impeccably, though. And who was I to complain as I didn't have to fly it (neither did the Prince-Admiral, of course). We circled the more distant parts of the base and watched a field exercise with AT-STs for a bit while I assured Krennel how excellently Roulsyn had answered all my questions. The distant sound of the blaster cannons stirred very old memories that involved a living room, my sister and a screen full of Ewoks.

"Mellanna?" Krennel had noticed that I had spaced out. Oops.

"I was just thinking about my past." I picked a radiant smile as I turned towards him.

"Was it a nice past?"

"I can proudly say that I grew up completely among humans." It was difficult not to laugh out loud, but my happy smile was perfect. "I didn't see a single alien for the longest time."

"You are a lucky person." He placed his prosthetic hand on mine (not prosthetic. Probably 'as yet' seeing how losing a hand seemed to be obligatory in the GFFA.)

"Yes, I am." I glanced at the blur of green and brown racing away below us.

"One of the problems we're faced with," Krennel began – it was amazing what a little daylight and an even more drab uniform did to his attitude, even though his hand stayed where it was - "is how to conceal putting up the underground facilities without arousing suspicion."

I was not quite sure who's suspicion that might be. The people of Chazwa shouldn't be too unhappy about being fortified. I suspected that he was referring to Thrawn's bit of the Empire, or any bit of Empire he and Isard did not rule. Well, well, somebody was carving out a niche.

The ground suddenly turned into a patchwork of brown and the speeder slowed down to allow a better view. Krennel ordered the windows opened so I could look down and around. The ground was open for miles around, layers of it were removed so that a chasm of shelves gaped below us. In the deepest mine an enormous bucket-wheel excavator slowly ate its way through the ground.

"Strip mining," Krennel commented. "It has been applied large-scale so that I covers an area even bigger than what we need for the underground facilities.

"Amazing." I couldn't wrap my mind around the sheer size of the site, not to mention that excavator. It had to be as tall as a several storey building.

"Since there are detonations and generally dangerous works in progress, air traffic over the area has been reduced to an absolute minimum. Go ahead and see if you can find the entrance to the real building site."

I stared at the brown layers below me, but I couldn't make out anything.

"Of course not." Krennel was smugly and superiorly happy. "Allow me." He leaned over, resting his artificial hand on my headrest and looking out of my window, his face but a few inches from mine.

It took an inhuman effort of self-control not to break down with mad giggles. The Prince-Admiral was absolutely priceless. He was also used to getting what he wanted; despite the charming smile on his face the blue eyes were hard as steel. I forced my glance to follow his.

"There." He pointed at a bit of ground that looked exactly like any other in that layer.

"Cloaking devices?" I asked, not taking my eyes of the implied section.

"Among other things." He sat back again and let his prosthetic fingers tickle over back of my hand, looking for the reaction (and of course getting it in capital letters). "Bring us down."

The speeder dropped with roller-coaster worthy manoeuvres that led to instant grinning on my part. If Krennel was trying to impress me, he was currently doing pretty well. Not quite as much as if he flown himself, but you couldn't have everything.

When the speeder had settled, Krennel's door was opened by the pilot. Since this was official work business, I decided that I was very well able to open my door myself. So I did, only to find a slightly perplexed pilot standing next to it.

"Always the spirited one," Krennel smiled. He didn't offer his arm, though as he led me towards the wall ahead. I was grateful.

"This is all so exciting!" I looked around curiously. The narrow plateau was dropping steeply behind us and a wall towered as steeply before us. There was absolutely nothing to be seen.

"During strip mining the whole area is turned upside down," Krennel explained. "The mine spoils are used to fill up the former pits." He paused to look at me expectantly.

I took my time, mostly wondering what you did with coal in the GFFA, before I nodded my understanding. "You only have to get in in time. Put up the structures before the pits are filled up around them again nicely. Do you use tunnels to keep the building site connected to the mining operation?"

"Not at all." With a big smile and even bigger gesture he led me towards the wall. With a flicker of brown on brown an entrance appeared in it. Unfortunately, it didn't look any more inviting than the mines of Moria, or probably Kessel to stay in the right universe. Still I followed him into what turned out to be pretty much a disguised canyon.

Despite Krennel's enthusiastic explanations – most of which used future forms and the first person pronoun a lot – the building site was inherently boring. Had I had an interest I heavy construction machines I might have enjoyed myself. Instead I made sure Krennel enjoyed himself. At an acceptably boring point I visibly suppressed a yawn. That was all it took.

"I can see the details bore you, Liaison," Krennel said in a patronising tone.

I cast an apologetic smile at him. After all I was supposed to be a piece of pretty. And nobody could see inside my head. Except his Admiralship. Frag him. Which was my job actually. Oh bother. "I am sure the facilities will be very secure when finished," I said.

"The safest place in the galaxy," he assured me with a meaningful nod.

"That is good to know," I replied. "Should – unforeseen events force me to relocate."

"You will always be welcome to me." Now he did offer his arm and though it was most likely more than improper I saw no other alternative but to take it. I really, really needed to find a way to make him realise that waiting for something did increase it's worth, not to mention pleasure, enormously.

"Tomorrow I shall bring you to the other side of Chazwa and you will see what the efforts can amount to." We began to walk back the way we had come. "And then I hope you will agree to visit our efforts of renaturalisation."

I got the hint even without him squeezing my arm. Outside, no cams, no mics. I put on a pretty smile and nodded happily. "I would so like to see that." Did I sound like a broken record? I bet I did. But did Krennel notice? I didn't think so. Not that it mattered.

I only realised that we were not going back to the base when the city appeared on the horizon. The speeder aimed directly for it and soon we drove through what looked like suburbs. Strange suburbs of small houses with gardens around them that seemed to be variations of stone gardens only made of low, small-leaved plants. The houses had one and a half storey, though I didn't quite get how they created that impression.

Suddenly we left the houses on the right behind. For a moment a bright white plaza blinked in the sun before it vanished behind more houses and rows of colourful booths and stalls. The speeder wound through the maze with practised ease, and as far as I could tell, everybody got out of the way fast. Probably knowing the pilot would not slow down for them. Imperial attitude. I still had a long way to go there.

"The South Market of Iritsa," Krennel told me. "The shopping facilities here are limited and have an even more limited selection, but I am sure you will find something worth wearing."

With that I was disembarked outside of a two storey building. Bother? Not that I had much of a choice as to follow Krennel who not only brought me inside, but also talked to the owner for a while before telling me, I'd be collected again in a few hours.

Hello?

What was I to do here for a few hours? The dresses my size were few enough to count on one hand. This shop catered to the anorexic and stylishly confused. And I was not. Or so I hoped. At least, I would have opted for generally more cloth than the dressed I was showed could offer. I refused another set of oven cloths with delusions of grandeur and sequins.

Oh yeah. I was released into the care of two clerks who clucked around me happily, pushing a deluge of outfits on me, half of which I adamantly refused to even try on because they consisted of so little cloth. It also took some heated words to ban pink from their list of offers.

It seemed as if they tried to sell me the whole shop. But I would be around for only two evenings, so I just had to find to acceptable dresses. And well, it seemed that standard military issued stuff didn't go well with anything fancy. I wished I was dead. And then I wished, Krennel was dead, because I wasn't all stupid, even if I currently very much felt like that.

In the end I managed to convince the women that two dresses were plenty and I didn't need any see-though nightgowns, thank you very much. If I had hoped to get away, though, I was disappointed. Krennel would have me collected here, so here I would stay. And since I was grounded anyway, why not look at … I hadn't expected to ever wish for Krennel's speedy return quite so desperately.

And I was also disappointed. Krennel did not return to collect me at all. Only the pilot did. I did not complain and tried to empty my head of the chatter of the clerks and some of the unhealthy images the clothes had brought up. The day I wore over-knee boots was the day, was the day – well probably the day his Admiralship got weird ideas. I closed my eyes and thought brain bleach for the rest of the drive.

Back at the base I found out that a pool designed for five is a problem for one, especially if you're challenged in the height department anyway. I kept drowning. At least none of the buttons I tried was a blender, so I got out in one piece. I wondered if bruises would start to show. I wondered if I could use them in my advantage. The ideas had me giggling until I saw myself in the mirror. Damned.

The dress was showy, and that didn't only cover the flashy bit of denomination. Okay, there was no neckline to speak of, but the high collar opened at the back and that not-really-neck line went a long way. The only concession to decency was that it did not show my butt crack. Barely. I had sat down repeatedly to make sure it stayed that way. Not that I intended to turn my back to the Prince-Admiral. Like ever. Certainly not wearing this.

Though, I had to admit I liked how there was only a palm-sized gap at the front. (Most other dresses had a palm-sized bit of cloth at the front, so that was improvement of sorts.) It was strategically situated though, and I felt that with some care I might be able to balance my plate on the new position of my boobs. Maybe I should have resisted more or looked at the sold underwear more closely. At least I had given in again (repeatedly) during my long wait for the pilot and had acquired a full set of accessories to match the mauve monstrosity and hopefully distract from- oh, who was I trying to fool?

"I am doomed." I turned to Rukh who only nodded.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	160. 159

One-Hundred and Fifty Nine

My head was heavy and fuzzy when I woke up reluctantly. Rukh's insistent shaking did not improve anything, but my annoyed moan was cut short by a yelp of pain when he finally lost his patience. Intimate knowledge of the human body did allow you to inflict useful amounts of pain. I sat up rubbing my eyes. I felt like a furball turned dreadlocks.

Now, what? I looked around finding the mauve dress on the floor in the middle of the room. Hm. I definitely remembered the need to get out of it very urgently. Why? Ah, yes, Prince-Admiral. "Bloody bastard."

"Yes, he is waiting for you to finish breakfast so you can be off," Rukh informed me.

Great. Just what I needed. Stumbling into the bathroom, I was forced to stop very suddenly to prevent a painful drop into the whirlpool. Gah! Whoever had designed this bath should be damned. And the designer of that dress with him. I scratched the small of my back self-consciously. Krennel had insisted – _insisted_ – on escorting me back to my room. The first time I ever had a guy walk half a step behind me with his eyes glued on my back. GAH! I scratched my back again as if that would help getting rid of the memory. To think things would not improve tonight!

I stared at my image in the mirror. There was no way I would let her into any kind of company looking like this. Certainly not a guy she had to impress. Whether I liked that or not. Not so much anymore. His gaze felt clingy on my skin. I showered extensively.

"I did buy make-up?" I called back to Rukh when I was back in my comfortable and covering-all-of-me uniform again.

"You were unstoppable," the Noghri confirmed. "I have everything packed up ready to leave."

"Did he put something in my drink?" I asked Rukh when he brought my bag. "I feel as if a herd of – bovines trampled over me."

"The amount of wine you ingested is completely sufficient to explain your state of inebriation," he replied. "And also you hangover." There was a definite tone of disapproval in his voice.

"I'm sorry." I really was. Anything that forced you to apply make-up in the morning was something to be sorry for.

"You're treading a very fine line, Mellanna," he growled.

"Don't I know it." I sighed. "But my fast mouth got the better of me – again." Was I detecting a pattern there? Maybe I should ask Thrawn to teach me when to shut up instead of another language. "All I can do now is try to save my neck with careless talk." I packed everything up again and plopped down on the floor for breakfast.

There was konot tea. Well, well. This was something where his Admiralship could take a leaf out of Krennel's book: pamper the madwoman. I made a tactical dent in the food selection. Maybe I should mention chocolate. The probability that I would get some seemed good. A lot better than with Thrawn. I was waiting for chocolate since when? With a sigh I got up.

"I think I have to take that thing along." I picked the dress up with my foot. Maybe you could still make something wearable from it. Adding layers of cloth getting more and more opaque towards the butt. Not that I even knew if there was a tailor on board of the _Chimaera_. Though it was likely, taking the amount of uniforms and their upkeep into consideration.

Krennel was indeed waiting, if not in front of my door. Both were points of relief. I was being a real woman, being late and everything. I found a smile in time to greet him. He looked a bit too smug for my taste, but since this would be official military business now I was not very worried. Yet.

Instead of a speeder we boarded a shuttle this time. Did I mention I love Imperial shuttles? I do. Even if there is a consistently staring Prince-Admiral at my heels. Those blue eyes were made of icy, cold, hard glittering. It was irritating in a way I hadn't expected. At least his glance slipped off my uniform when it wandered while he weaselled all the details of the upcoming operation on Byss out of me.

Much of it was prepared on a silver platter anyway, I just had to dish it out correctly, hesitate at the right points and look reluctant in some cases. It was relaxing not having to watch each word I said. Expressing what crossed my mind made me more credible, honesty being a weapon and all that. I mentally throttled Thrawn again. My obvious ignorance also gave Krennel a lot of chances to explain the world to me which he visibly enjoyed.

Being a piece of pretty became easier and easier, especially since his glance bounced off my uniform repeatedly. I even relaxed the grip over my body language. Slips didn't matter as long as I didn't roll my eyes at his anti-alien bias, or patriarchic world view, or any of his ideas. Blunt force was not the answer to anything, but if Palpatine's example didn't teach him that, who was I to even try?

It became obvious that his alliance with Isard was opportunistic in motivation. He did not give much on women in positions of power, but since she was working on getting an old power back he was willing to cooperate.

I duly praised his endurance and cunning. "It is not easy to work for scheming superiors."

"I would spare you that, if I could," he offered. "The rising power in the Empire will return it to its old ways."

"That would be nice." It was so easy to lie. "Though the rise might be more difficult than you anticipate."

"It doesn't have to be." His blue eyes tried to sparkle and fell short of the fireworks I was used to.

"I am scared of the consequences my behaviour would have," I admitted. "The Grand Admiral does not strike me as the forgiving kind."

"His petty thirst for revenge will not matter," Krennel promised, "if you will accept my protection." His eyes promised a lot more than mere protection.

I tried to look up at him through my lashes, which was more difficult than I had thought. "I trust you, Prince-Admiral, but" I swallowed, "it will be such a hard time at the Grand Admiral's side until it's over."

"You can do it," he assured me. "Just tell me one thing." He took my hand. "What is the reason for you to do this?"

I had to look down for two reasons. Firstly I had to make sure I was wearing my uniform. Secondly I had to refrain from glomping the Prince-Admiral for asking me this while I was wearing my uniform.

He did me the extra favour of taking my silence completely wrong. "It is okay. You can tell me."

I put my right over his hands holding mine. The metal was cool under my skin. I tried to smile, but that was hard because I was a rather rough ocean of emotion underneath. The tension made my eyes water. "I want a united galaxy. One government, one people."

"And?" His tone told me that he knew there would be more.

"And," I looked up into curious, but cold blue eyes. "And I don't want to get dragged into all the conflicts. I don't want to decide. I don't want to be responsible! I don't want to be involved!"

"I understand." He squeezed my hand softly.

I dug up a hopeful smile. "I want a simple life." I spelled out 'with you' in capital letters of body language. I wondered who got the idea that it was the words that were deceiving. I felt a blush creep over my face. This was sure embarrassing.

The Prince-Admiral got the message and was now in as nice a fix as if I had planned this. He was the final prize, the promise to dangle before me. This meant he couldn't really have me before it was all done, because that would dampen my fervour. Of course, things still depended on how he handled 'promising'.

And then I finally got to walk tunnels and bunkers under the ground. Somehow I had expected tht to be more exciting. I blamed it on living on a ship that was mostly made up of corridors and windowless rooms. Bother. As claimed, the facility was invisible from above. The scanners didn't show anything unusual, if their data was a bit fuzzy that would have to be blamed on a mineral in the Chazwa ground which tended to scramble scanner readings by reflecting inaccurately.

The entrance was on a rocky riverbed which hid traces of wheels and other vehicles nicely. I was informed that the entrance itself was horizontal with repulsor fields to cushion the fall. That was when we were already plunging towards the ground at breakneck speed. It was scary to drop to the ground and then right through it. I was pumped with adrenaline when we set down in a very unspectacular hangar.

Krennel acted unaffected, but I could see a gleam in his eye which I was not sure whether it came from the landing or my reaction to it. I was obviously impressed; his conquest was going well. The conquest in question was allowed to take notes so she would not forget anything scatterbrained as she was. I made a point to look at Krennel when pointing out my state of distraction. He got the hint to his distracting qualities.

What I made no effort of taking a note of was that here, too, the troops wore uniforms with those slight variations. I didn't think I could forget about that. It was too scary in its implications.

Instead I focussed on rooms with lots of shiny controls and blinking lights. I was introduced to controls for ground to space missiles, ground to air missiles and communication control centres. It was all rather interesting, though it wasn't supposed to show. So I made rather useless notes that only translated back into useful information in my head.

Since we were on the other side of the planet, new accommodation was in demand. Krennel had obtained what looked like the country house of somebody. It was nicely spacious, but had the disadvantage of connected suites. Oh, he did assure me that the door was locked from my side and there was no way he could open it should I not unlock it, but I was worried. Very worried. Krennel was acting trustworthy, but he was actually not.

I bit my lip scanning the room for more nasty surprises. When I found none, I tried to relax and find a strategy to keep the Prince-Admiral interested but off my back - and all other bits of my person.

"So what is the mistake I made yesterday that I should avoid now?" I wondered out loud.

"You did thank the Prince-Admiral rather profusely for the clothes," Rukh replied.

"Well, he did pay for the whole junk," I said. "And this is the first time that a guy fitted me out completely..." The Noghri didn't take his eyes off me. "... with something that isn't uniforms," I added. The black orbs rested on me unblinking. "Or stuff that didn't vanish again."

"It did not."

"It didn't? Where did it go to?"

"You do realise that your new quarter has more than one cupboard for clothes."

Oh. Ouch. No I had not, though my first impulse was to say that of course I had. Erm. "Really?"

Rukh nodded. I had the feeling he wished to connect my head with the wall repeatedly. "Sometimes I cannot fathom why the Grand Admiral trusts you even with getting your uniform on straight."

"Because otherwise he'd have to do that?" I bit my tongue. "Sorry. You're right. I tend to be a bit on the useless side. I just assume too much."

"No," he disagreed. "You don't think enough. You also called the Grand Admiral a cold, blue-skinned bastard."

"Hm." I half smiled, despite the disaster of a dress I faced. The white cloth had a black-and-red pattern scattered over its part calling itself the top. It consisted mostly of two lengths of cloth. I would not have called it anything much, especially since I had a neckline down to my navel and the small of my back. I wondered what kept the cloth where it was supposed to stay. The looks of all men seeing it, probably.

A broad and bright red sash stopped the descent of the neckline, keeping my stomach neatly in shape. And the skirt was rather lovely, falling in wide folds, if only down to my knees. Not that I would think about the length much. The amount of skin showing was uncomfortable, and the necklace had a very long end dangling down my back and tickling impossibly. I wondered absent-minded if Krennel would insist on escorting me to my room again and if he'd be walking backwards half a step in front of me. Such silliness brightened my mood acceptably and I could be off to face yet another dinner.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	161. 160

One-Hundred and Sixty

I had some difficulties to radiate comfortable self-confidence once I was in Krennel's company. The Prince-Admiral was very gentlemanly in his manners. He put up his most charming front, but the cold calculation rarely left his eyes. He wanted to test the waters and see how much I'd betray.

So I made certain the slips were far enough between and became more only as the evening progressed and with it my consumption of wine. It was translucent, of an almost bright green, fresh and sweet and cold. I ignored the glances straying over my body, happy that the table hid my belly button. With the tour of the day as starting ground I managed to draw the conversation away from private topics for a start. But of course, when work was involved, so was his Admiralship. And soon Krennel was on a roll.

They are not like us," he told me. "And though they can be useful, they cannot be trusted. Their standards and ethics are too different from ours." He paused long enough to give me a meaningful glance. "Aliens just are not up to humans. They don't think the way we do."

"The Grand Admiral certainly does not think like us," I agreed readily. "I mean, he takes his tactics from art."

"Art?" Krennel almost snorted.

"Yep, art," I confirmed. It might be a good thing if the Prince-Admiral overestimated the influence of art on Thrawn's tactics and underestimated his military abilities. Paintings were all very well, but the psychological edge only worked on an already sharp mind. I pretended to be searching for the right words. "He looks at paintings and such. And then he decides how to fight. Just like that."

"That sounds like fluke to me." Krennel shook his head.

"I'd think so too, but I have seen it work." I shrugged helplessly. "It's creepy. It sure ain't normal."

"He is dangerous, too dangerous to keep," he decided. "If he'd know his place in the Empire, he might have stayed a useful tool, but thinking he can run it effectively..."

"That he does." I sighed. "But he's no politician. He's a military commander. Maybe he doesn't realise there's a difference."

"Maybe his people didn't work out the difference yet," Krennel snorted derisively.

I noted the idea for further exploration when sober. Having a military kind of politics sounded difficult but twisted in a way that made sense for Chiss. And what I remembered from the Wook was that outsiders usually had contact only with the military. How was that for politics?

"I wish I didn't have to bother with that at all." The fervour with which I wished (because Chiss were indeed uncomfortably scary) must have shown in my voice. The Prince-Admiral felt compelled to take my hand and look at me like a puppy. Okay, he was actually looking like a man ready to slag a whole Empire it just translated into 'puppy' for me.

"Not much longer," said the most dangerous puppy in the galaxy.

Swallowing, I nodded and tried to ban dark visions of my future among the Chiss from my mind.

"It hurts me to see you so tortured," he went on. The prosthetic fingers closed around my hand painfully tight. "And by an alien, too."

I opened my eyes and tried to smile. "Only a few more months," I told him truthfully. "Byss will be the last station for me." Or so I believed. Or so I prayed.

"That it shall." A predatory smile crept to his lips. "The Emperor will -" he broke off and hesitated for a moment. "The Empire will be different after that deployment, more like it used to be, like it should be. And people like you can retire from the thick of action."

'People like me' was a nice description for women. But I approved of his goal to be rid of Isard. The removal of our superiors gave us a nice common ground and it would also leave him alone to be Palpatine's right-hand man. I smiled gratefully. He was being a great help.

Still I did not return to my room light-heartedly. The connecting door worried me a lot despite Krennel's assurances. I wondered if I could have Rukh sleep in my room, or even at the foot of my bed. It was big enough for half his clan anyway. Putting on a jumpsuit to sleep eased my worries only a little. The dress had held up over all important parts miraculously, despite Krennel's best efforts to remove it with his eyes. It felt so good to be completely covered again.

For awhile I stood in the middle of the room staring at the four-poster, wishing I could hide under it. Well. Why not? I eyed the space below the bed. I might have had nightmares. I might have been so scared that I hid under the bed. And should Krennel decided to follow baser instincts, my obvious state of distress should put him off amorous pursuits. Or so I hoped.

Rukh said nothing as I dragged the blankets and pillow off the bed and shoved them below it. "You can have it," I said pointing at the vacated mattress. "The scared liaison will sleep better after waking from nightmares if her bodyguard is around."

He regarded me for a long moment. "You are crazy."

I mulled that over. "Yes," I nodded. "I'm afraid, I am. And looking back, I must admit that my recent behaviour does nothing to refute that."

"How recent?"

"A year? Give or take?"

"You did nothing sensible in that time?" Rukh managed to sound very sceptical.

"Let me think." I tapped my index finger against my lip. "Nope. Not a single attempt at suicide." I flopped down on the floor.

"Your mood is absolutely endearing," the Noghri commented as he left.

I had to agree. Men. You just couldn't win. I crawled under the bed and shifted my weight until I lay possibly comfortable. There was no chance to lie down on my side as I used to, and pull one leg up into my fave sleeping position. The framework for the mattress was but inches from my face. It smelled musty. But I felt safe enough to fall asleep.

_I stand squeezed in, my back against the wall, unable to move, my face scraping over the rough surface._

"_Nothing I can do," C'baoth says looking like Christopher Walken again. "You had your chance. Too late now. I'm off."_

_I turn around but he already vanished in the haze and crowd. The music is so loud, but I can still hear conversations all around me, the bass is thrumming in my bones._

_My boyfriend holds my hand in the flickering noise and dancing darkness. He wants to stay but I want to leave when he wants to leave, but I want to stay. Our glances meet, they bounce off each other repeatedly confused and alienated. There is no way around the obvious and we both know. So we separate in silent agreement. As he leaves I stay with my back against the wall._

_I'm all alone in the overcrowded upper level of the _Zwischenfall_. Familiar strangers surround me, dancing to the sound of my past, wavering in the fog of my memories. And I am invisible among their shadows, pressed against the wall. The red lightsaber flickers through the billowing crowd like eyes._

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	162. 161

One-Hundred and Sixty One

I awoke unravaged except for a headache from trying to sit up. After crawling out from under the bed, I rubbed my forehead, bringing light to a whole new world of cramped muscles. My shoulders and back felt as if they were made of stone. Where was the whirlpool when you needed it? The long hot shower was a poor substitute.

Breakfast had also decreased in size. As expected the stuff missing was what I had not eaten much of before. Somebody was having a learning curve. I still had enough konot tea to wash down the grey yubi-porridge with the obligatory kolu syrup. Throwing random bits of fruit into the bowl also helped to improve the taste greatly. Habitus was a great thing, but why did it have to be so yukky?

"You will be around when I leave you behind, right?" I looked at Rukh over the remains of breakfast.

"Of course."

"I don't think he'll try anything, but I shall sure feel better knowing you to be around." And if Krennel had planned some assaults on my inviolacy, he'd had the perfect chance last night. I tried to find comfort in that.

Rukh showed his teeth. It might have been a reassuring smile. "I have watched you train with DV-565. Seeing those techniques applied would be satisfying."

I stared at him in stunned silence watching my mind going from immobile shock to a deluge of images of me applying the more grisly things on the Prince-Admiral which slowly congested into one urgent question. "You think I could keep him at bay?"

"Do you?"

That was so typically Rukh. And also, as usual, going straight to the heart of the problem. If I didn't believe, it wouldn't help much. "I'll have an eye out for the cybernetic hand," I sighed. "Biting into that would be inconvenient."

"And do not forget about the knife." His glance wandered towards my boot.

My hand followed it automatically. Then I nodded. Ready or not, here I came.

This time the Prince-Admiral himself was piloting a streamlined speeder through the landscape. Rukh managed to look forlorn on the backseat next to Krennel's hulking bodyguards. I leant back and inhaled the air that was thick with the scent of leaves and bark and bursts of bitter-sweet blossom.

"You do not get out a lot," Krennel observed.

"No," I agreed, feeling cool sunshine on my face.

"What a pity." He elevated the speeder to a more scenic height.

I let the wind rush over my face after sending a grateful glance in Krennel's direction. Then I basked in the blue of the sky and the glittering green of the treetops racing by. I couldn't remember a sky so blue. I couldn't remember dark green leaves reflecting sunlight of pale gold. I didn't know suns could be rimmed in glowing red almost too pale to be visible.

Finally the speeder set down in heaven. Rock sprinkled hills rose gently around us, scattered liberally with trees of exotic familiarity, like beeches, like palms, like oaks, like ferns. I could hear a stream and the wind in the trees and what were probably birds. You could never be quite sure here. Mossy grass yielded under my boots. I felt the pope-like urge to throw myself down and kiss the ground.

And I was also annoyed that Krennel walked and very much talked beside me when we left our bodyguards behind and slowly went up the nearest hill. If Bloody Stupid Johnson had turned Scotland into a landscape garden and, against all odds, everything had turned out well, this is what would have happened. I let my fingers trail over the leaves of low bushes and tall grasses. "It's so beautiful," I sighed.

"It suits you well." Krennel broke the mood by taking my arm.

I had to smile because my role demanded it. I would very much have preferred a solid geek out with my best friend on the boulders at the stream. But with the Prince-Admiral at my side I had to pass them by, imitating the streams carefree chatter. At least the view from the hilltop was gorgeous. The country fell away in soft waves of hills under the stark blue sky, even if the slightly reddish sun was slightly irritating.

Krennel took my shoulders and turned me until I was facing the ocean in the distance. The light glittering on the water had a reddish tint too without being red, if that made sense. I let out a sigh. "I would say that your renaturalisation efforts are a complete success."

"More than that." He didn't bother to let go of my shoulders. "The reflecting mineral playing havoc with scans from the air is cumulating in this hill and making it impossible to monitor."

"Very convenient," I said softly. "Especially if you have delicate matters to discuss."

"How delicate?" His voice rasped over my cheek.

"How delicate do you think treason is?" I whispered back.

"Ah," he exhaled. "As delicate as a touch of your skin and only slightly more dangerous." His fingers dug into my shoulders.

"We must not lose our heads." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Too much is at stake and Palpatine-"

I felt Krennel take a step away from me before turning me around to face him. "And Palpatine...?"

"Do you really want him back?" I breathed.

The implications took a moment to sink in. Then he smiled tightly, taking my chin between his metal fingers. "Does somebody have ambition to rise to Empress?" He asked half mocking.

Blushing, I cast my eyes down. "I was just wondering," I mumbled, "if you'd be happy following somebody else's lead forever."

He let out a cold chuckle and turned away, clasping his hands at the small of his back. "You are right, of course," he said. "It is a question I have asked myself, too. And Palpatine is a great manipulator and schemer."

I said nothing for a while and just enjoyed the view. There was nothing I could do anyway. Either he decided to move against Palps from the beginning and that would be great, or he wouldn't. Whatever the decision, I'd wisely leave the making of actual plans to his Admiralship. He had to be good for _some_thing.

"The Grand Admiral would take care of that problem," I finally said. "We'd have to take care of him afterwards."

Krennel didn't answer immediately. "Am I guessing right, that the Grand Admiral would also take care of Isard?"

"I think so," I replied. "But if it comforts you, I do know a way to dispose of him."

He turned around, a sneer on his face. "And who would do that? You, my dear?"

I allowed myself a short laugh. "No, Prince-Admiral. You are right there. I couldn't do it. But my bodyguard can."

Krennel moved, as if expecting to find him standing behind me. "He can do that?"

"Of course," I almost snorted. "Easily. The secret is that the Grand Admiral trusts him not to do it. That's all I need. I can distract him long enough for my Noghri to act."

"Fitting," Krennel mused, "the alien dispatched by another alien. And you can reconcile that with your conscience?"

I got the feeling he hadn't read my vita closely. After all I had shot another guy already, and an Imperial, too. "Things would be as they should then," I told him truthfully.

"Is he really considering to make peace with the Rebels?" He asked after a moment.

"I don't think so," I scoffed. "But he'd never let them know. They'd be off the plan faster than rats off a sinking ship."

"He sure is hiding it well."

"Of course. He can't have them screw up his plans."

"He needs them?"

"Not _them_." I shook my head derisively. "He only needs Skywalker. But as yet that means the whole rebellious rabble has to play along."

"Does he want to keep the Jedi?" Krennel asked, his voice heavy with suspicion.

"Only if he's pliable," I replied. "There was enough trouble with that mad clone already. He doesn't want to repeat that. If Skywalker can't be controlled, he'll have to go. And Skywalker will jump onto the opportunity to kill Palpatine - if we let him." I studied my fingernails. "Which we might. Or might not."

"I see," Krennel softly said through his teeth.

I looked up with a smile. "So I had hoped.

"You are not inconvenienced by these developments?"

"I will take my chances with it, because," I glanced around as if I suspected somebody listening in after all, "because, truth be told. The Grand Admiral is an encroaching bastard you can't make heads or tails off." I shook my head again. "He's driving you nuts and then expects you to be grateful."

"I think I can relate to the feeling," Krennel agreed. "Though my standing with Isard is naturally better than yours with the Grand Admiral."

I fidgeted, but didn't object. "She'll be with us then?" I finally asked.

"That remains to be seen." There was a glint in Krennel's eye that said he was indeed standing behind Isard, and he'd unsheathe his knife the moment he saw the possibility to get rid of her. Good, very good.

"Well," I looked around at the innocent landscape and brilliantly blue sky. "This place is certainly a beauty and well worth seeing. I thank you for showing it to me. Maybe I can return the favour?"

Krennel reflected the sunlight with his prosthetic arm. "I'd be delighted. You know how to reach me."

"It was a pleasure seeing you again." Gods, I couldn't keep from flirting. It sure was that stupid arm. I grinned and showed that I tried not to and was kinda embarrassed that I didn't manage. Oh yes, I was sure happier to have met him than I should have. He got the message alright.

"The pleasure is all mine." He took my hand with the prosthetic and held it to his lips shortly. I managed to blush appropriately. "I am looking forward to deepening the association."

Instead of keeling over with laughter, I visibly struggled with a giggle. Bed me, if you can. He sure would keep considering that. Excellent. With a final bob of my head I turned and we began the descend through the rocky hills. If he hadn't been there to hear, I would have burst into laughter. This was been such fun, and gods, did it feel good.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	163. 162

One-Hundred and Sixty Two

Three hours later the _Muunaak_ towered in space before me. I was still a little sleepy because three hours did not leave much time for a nap if you had transmissions to do and reports to write. But I had tea, though drinking it while piloting proved to be difficult. There wasn't even a cup holder in the cockpit - Rukh did not count.

I emptied the cup as the tractor beam pulled us in, congratulating Krennel on his choice of a gift. I wouldn't mind if the men of this galaxy kept giving me tea. I would also not insist on the boxes looking as if they cost a multiple of the content.

Being back among normal people meant my dress code was pleasing again. I got to wear sensible jumpsuits like every other day. Almost. I did get the addition of a low hanging double holster so I could get at my shiny blasters easily. I might even look as if I could get off a shot in the general direction of its intended recipient. I felt like swaggering like Han Solo, but kept that for the eventual landfall. Shipfall, to be exact.

When I finally got to exit the _Liberty_, I forgot all about swaggering though, seeing Jaing flanked by two green Mandos waiting for me.

"Su'cuy!" I didn't wait to see what kind of greeting he had in mind but hugged him. "I'm so glad to see you again."

He pried me off and held me at arm's length. "Shaping up to be a real little verd'ika, I see."

"Doing my best." I followed his eyes to my blasters. "Oh, those." I drew one out of its holster, spinning it around my finger before handing it to Jaing, grip first. And I _so_ ignored the two guys in green that suddenly had their blaster muzzles trained at me. "I thought you might recognise them."

He took it carefully and studies the inlay. "Didn't expect to see them again. Certainly not on someone - on you."

"A probably embarrassing gift," I conceded. "I was told they were too hot to resell after Vau's demise."

"Which would have been quite a while ago."

"Yah, Thrawn is creepy like that sometimes." I accepted the weapon back. "I'd return them, if I knew how he'd take it."

"To who?"

"What do I know?" I shrugged.

"They didn't have a stun setting before," Jaing commented.

"No," I confirmed. "And they have been quite a bother to add, or so I heard. But if we could get going now? I am already late and I don't think Skywalker has time to waste."

"We can, if I get a summary."

"I'm infiltrating Byss from the other side," I just said and that seemed to be enough. I was escorted to a meeting where a group of T-visored faces already waited. One stood out immediately.

"Jusik!" My mood brightened some notches. "How are you? You look great!"

"So you are a Jedi now? Being able to see through armour and all?" He mocked.

"Psh, Jedi," I grinned. "I can still use my lightsaber most successfully as immersion heater. For assessments like that I trust famed female intuition.

"Sir," I nodded a greeting at Kom'rk who did a great job of hulking. "Other Sirs, ma'ams." I wondered if this was the result of not having one government that so many Mandos were assembled now. Being organised in self-sufficient splinter groups did have drawbacks. "So," I went on when everybody was seated. "The Empire and you. How do you want to shape those relations?" The following silence was palpable. Maybe I should not have taken initiative like this.

"How can _you_ influence that?" Kom'rk. Very endearing.

"Any way you want," I assured him. I put my pad on the table and stared at it for a while. Then I pushed it over the table towards Jaing. "I think it is still scanning and recording. You might want to do something about that."

More silence, directed at me like spears.

"What?" I looked around. "I'd be happy with pen and paper or flimsy and stylus."

Jaing had taken the pad apart. It fell into three neat slices with bits of inner life clinging to all parts. After scrutinising the bits for a while he crushed a finger into the electronics. There was a crackling noise and when he returned the pad to me it wouldn't work any more.

I put it down with a smile. "I always wondered how you left a digital fingerprint. Still, if no-one of you is going to take notes for me, I'd need something to write now."

Another pad skittered towards be across the table. Following its vector I ended up looking at one of the green Mandos who had been collecting me with Jaing. He confirmed his action with a small upwards nod. I couldn't take my eyes off him as I reached for the pad tentatively. He was disconcerting. Only after glancing at Jaing, Kom'rk and Jusik did I feel better again.

I switched on the pad trying to get a my favourite writing setting to work. It was more annoying that suddenly switching from Microsoft to Apple. Everything was a tad off and inverted or named different and I was ready to hit people over the head – or helmet – with the stupid thing by the time I finally got the keyboard dominating the lower part of the touch screen with only a few lines of text visible above it.

"So." I grabbed a huge grin and threw it around. "I want you to cooperate with the Empire. What does it take? What do I have to do?"

I could _see_ the discussion taking place behind the helmets. After watching it for a few minutes I wondered if a sarcastic remark would help any. In the end I decided against it, mostly because I couldn't think of anything clever to say.

"How much is he willing to pay," Green One finally asked, tilting his head in that tell-tale way.

"Well," I mirrored him automatically which seemed to lower the temperature a few thousand degrees. "That would depend on the services rendered. But I was going for the political angle."

"We don't have one," Jaing stated. I could see Green Two arguing the point behind closed helmets.

I stared into Jaing's T-visor. "Then I suggest you reconsider," I told him. I didn't back down and settled down for a long stare, trying to remember who was doing political stuff for the Mandos right now, if anybody.

"Why?" Green Two broke the silence.

After narrowing my eyes at Jaing, I turned to face him. "Because." I made a long tactical pause. "The Yuuzhan Vong are on their way and they are not fun. They abhor technology and worship pain. You want join them? Fine. If you don't, you cooperate."

"With the Empire?" His tone was cold right through the vocoder.

"With everybody," I corrected. Was there a faction of Mandos already allied with the Republic? I should have memorised my EU better. Now it was way too late. "I don't think anybody can stand against the Vong on their own. Nobody."

"And who are you to know that?" Green One leant back but didn't cross his arms across the chest as I had expected. He was somebody I might shovel my own grave with, but I would have to take the risk.

"Who I am." I tried to find the answer that would satisfy him when I wasn't even sure there was one. "I could be a vision of your future, or a spectre of your past. I could haunt you like Galidraan or Geonosis." He didn't stir visibly._ Jackpot_. "But I'd rather not."

I looked down at my hands. "I can only righten the wrongs of the past in a very limited way. But I would really like to avoid some future ones. Maybe you think it is impossible to know the future. And maybe I know the impossible about the past. And maybe it doesn't really matter at all because I'd be happy knowing just Clan Skirata with me." I looked at him again, sliding the pad back to him across the table.

His gloved hand slammed down on it without him looking at it. Maybe he had read the words as I typed them. I glanced at Jusik for a reaction to his reaction. There was a tiny shake of the head. So I would live. Fine. I put my hands flat on the table to prevent them from shaking and concentrated on Green Two.

„I realise that Mandos are not very political people in general. And I don't ask you to change overnight. There is time. As yet."

„And the attack on Byss?"

I folded my hands before me on the table. „I want you involved. I need you involved. I don't want either the Empire nor the Republic to see it as a chance to pounce the other. A third armed force seems to be a good idea to me."

„A third party anyone can buy," he added.

„You do that," I glared at him, „and I will find you and a way to shove your bucket up your butt."

Muffled chuckles were my only answer to that.

"Laugh if it makes you feel better," I grumbled. "But don't think I am not serious."

"Be as serious as you want," he gave back, "just don't expect us to be so. We're not used to being threatened by kittens."

"Better get used to it," I replied evenly, "because I am not going to back down."

"In that case, this might turn out to be a very interesting conversation." Green Two shook his head slightly.

I glanced at Green One, but he seemed to be on stand-by, lost somewhere inside his head. Fine. That left only clan Skirata to succour or stab me in the back.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	164. 163

One-Hundred and Sixty Three

I was falling asleep over a cup of tea when Jusik came to collect me. "You have a visitor," he said and I was in no state to wonder about that. Chazwa had had one time zone, and the Mandos were on something completely different. I was willing to bet that the _Chimaera_ was in a different time zone altogether again. This was worse than jet lag. I supposed.

I wished the tea had woken me more. I felt like a sleepwalker. I didn't even realise that Jusik was out of armour until I noticed the expression on his face. "You do like to live dangerous, don't you?"

I shrugged. "I like to be alive as much as the next person. I just think there's things more important overall."

He shook his head in disapproval. "He might share our opinion on that and then you are in trouble. What did you give him?" Jusik looked worried.

"The location of a person," I replied softly. "I feel so stupid for being so scared of him."

He laughed. "You _are_ stupid, because you're not more afraid of any of us."

He was so right. I slumped. "You're simply the good guys in my book, with all that entails in my head even if that is a huge misinterpretation." I sighed. "But I like it. I like feeling safe." My smile was apologetic.

"Just don't get killed by your sense of security," Jusik warned and ushered me into the hangar.

For a stupefied moment I wondered if it was already time to leave again and where Jaing was when I saw the figure approaching. I rubbed my eyes. Maybe I _was_ sleepwalking. "Arn!" The only reason I didn't sprint of to mow him down with enthusiasm was my state of complete befuddlement coming from no sleep and not enough tea after long talks with sneaky Mandalorians.

His grin rivalled young Han's, not to mention he looked a lot better, not only because of that snappy Imperial uniform. Foregoing any Imperial protocol I glomped him. Gods, I had been missing that little critter. When he made exaggerated choking noises I let go off him again. "Where have you been?"

"Oh, around and about." He shrugged.

"Is this all I will ever get to know about it?" I tried to arch a brow.

"Possibly," he replied without a trace of contrition. "It's all on a strictly need-to-know basis."

"And as usual, I need to know nothing," I sighed.

"On the contrary," he objected. "You need to know quite a lot. Which is why I am here to fill you in."

"And listen in on my negotiations." I managed not to glance at Jusik.

"Naturally. We cannot have you scare away our Jedi Master," Arn grinned. Again I managed not to look at Jusik. But technically Arn was right and the Mando beside me not really a Jedi. "So, how have you been progressing?"

"Fine." My nasty streak surfaced as I took his arm and dragged him off. I began an extensive recount of my training and shooting exercises. From his reaction I could read that those were not quite the fields he had been thinking about. But that was not my problem and I would leave it up to him how and when to bring up the very delicate topic. Instead I made much of Krennel and his efforts to impress me and how much fun that had been.

I had just settled down again with another cup of tea (a strong citric taste with chilli seemed to be a favourite here) when another Mando arrived to pick us up. This time it was Jaing informing us of Skywalker's arrival. I cast a mournful glance into cup. Would I ever get to finish a cup of tea in peace again?

There was a surprisingly big group in the hangar though only Arn and Rukh boarded the _Liberty_ with me. Jaing and Jusik got onto another ship with the two Greenies. I just hoped Luke was not resentful. Or I wrong.

"And you said I would scare Skywalker away?" I asked Arn and started the ship.

"Oh, I don't worry." Arn showed his carefree grin as we dropped into space. "I don't think they'll feel threatened."

I was about to ask questions when I saw the Mon Cal frigate before us. It dwarfed the _Muunaak_ and I agreed that whoever was aboard there was most likely not worried at all about a handful of Mandos. So much for need-to-know. Information politics be fragged.

The inside of the frigate was disappointing because it looked pretty much like any hangar I had been in before. The curves might show again inside the ship, but it seemed they were not functional for hangars. Also its size wasn't a topic anymore once inside. I was sure getting much too used to ships and corridors and bulkheads and such.

"Hey." Jusik stopped me. "You forgot something." With that he handed me a small tin.

I opened it with Arn leaning over my shoulder. It was tea, smelling strongly of citric fruit. I couldn't help but grin. The men of this galaxy should just keep this up. I would never complain. And it was such a crafty idea, too. "I'll just bring it into the ship." I looked at Arn questioningly.

He nodded and I was off with the tea clutched to my chest. Life was good – at least sometimes.

In the galley, I opened the tin again, fishing for the comm inside it. My Mandos, I _had_ to love them. Stashing the item away safely and out of sight in one of the pockets of my jumpsuit, I returned in an undignified run. The group was already assembled in front of the main door. There was additional undignified pushing and shoving until I stood at the front next to Jaing.

The door opened and Luke was on the other side. I instantly had a grin on my face. But that fell when I realised he had Han with him. I was doomed, several times over. Still I tried to act as if nothing was amiss and bowed to Luke. "Master Skywalker. I am happy that we meet again. May our meeting be fruitful – and peaceful," I couldn't help but add.

Luke was only listening with one ear, staring at Jusik. While Han confirmed my fears and glowered at Green One. Now all that was missing was Winter hitting off with Jaing like a house on fire. Still, if I had hoped that was all the debacle happening I was disappointed.

"Are we going to stand here all day?" The red-haired woman was most likely Mara Jade. And the two men behind her, I had to guess, because they were only vaguely familiar, but probably Antilles and – another version of Ken? In the background, invisible to untrained eyes lurked a Noghri, his eyes fixed firmly on anything moving around the son of Vader. My inner fangirl gave a hopeless little sigh.

"If we can just leave past quarrels behind us for now and promise not to kick each others' shins during the talks, I think we have a chance to proceed nicely," I offered optimistically. Not that anybody listened to me much.

"I am not worried for anybody from our side," Han said. "But who will guarantee that he won't try anything?"

So much for burying past quarrels. "I will vouch for him." I dug my own grave stepping into Han's line of sight.

Which was not really necessary and he turned to look at me anyway. His gaze scorched me like lava. "And what if I do not believe you can do that?"

"Then you have a problem. I do not," I told him. I could see from his reaction that is didn't impress him the least. Why could blame him? He shifted his weight and I could feel the reply rippling through the Mandos behind me. Wonderful. Just great.

"No." I held up my hand. Then I glared at Han before turning towards – well chicken that I was, I turned towards the Mandos in general. "No! This is my – my whatever. I'm the lead." I turned so I could glare at both sides alternatingly. "Everybody listens to what I say. And anybody unable to put the past behind him until the reborn Palpatine is removed from the galaxy is not wanted here. He can leave now. Understood?"

Han relaxed if only a little. The Mandos were able to convey a shrug by just shifting their weight. Luke tensed somewhat when he caught Jusik staring at Mara. The Ken glanced at Winter, the two seemed to know each other well, judging from their relative positions to each other. I should really have studied the EU better. The Noghri appeared indifferent to the going-ons.

"Good. If nobody is going to leave now, I suggest we sit down somewhere to discuss things. Preferably over a cup of tea." I addressed the last part to Luke making it sound like a question.

He nodded and led the way. "I am impressed with your assertiveness."

"Hph," I shrugged that off. "I am trying to save the galaxy. And unfortunate as it might be, I cannot rely on my usual timid self." It was difficult, but I did manage to suppress a mournful sigh.

Despite the fact that the Alliance had been thoughtful enough to provide a round table, there was a clear sense of sides to the developing seating arrangement. I sat down beside Luke with Arn on my other side. With a lot of presence of mind Jusik and Green Two settled down as buffers to probably Han, who in return he decided to sit down next to Luke from where he could glare effectively at Green One who was by all signals exchanged Señor Fett himself. Had I mentioned I was doomed, lately?

At least Most Likely Fett sat next to Jaing. Should any restraint be necessary; I could only pray, Jaing would be of help, though. Probably Winter sat next to Han, possibly as a calming influence as well, her Ken seated next to her and not taking his eyes off Arn. Things did not improve. Next to Ken sat Possibly Wedge with Mara looking slightly uncomfortable beside Jusik who sure had an eye out for her. Not to mention Luke had an eye on Jusik for watching Mara.

The only people seeming at ease were Green Two and Jaing. And the two Noghri bodyguards that had silently taken up positions behind me and Luke. So this was the set up for my next disaster. I was so not liking this. But first things first. I needed names. And not only of the other party. I was such a failure.

"I think a round of introductions would be a nice start," I smiled with a warmth I didn't feel and assurance I had accidentally left at Krennel's. There was no tea as yet. So I might as well get the unpleasantries over with. If those only didn't include the whole meeting.

"Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight and representative of the New Republic," Luke picked up the ball. I was grateful, especially for his engaging smile. He was a lot better with it than me.

"Han Solo, New Republic," Han growled before I got a word in. So much for pleasant atmosphere and taking turns.

"Winter Retrac, proxy for Leia Organa Solo who cannot be seen to attend meetings like this."

"Tycho Celchu, air to ground command on the Byss mission," Ken introduced himself. Arn stirred when he heard the name, but it rang no bell in my memory. I only remembered it because of the possibility of bad puns including typos.

"Wedge Antilles, air command for the mission," the dark haired man next to Celchu confirmed my suspicions. This might be more difficult than I had expected. Lots of people knowledgeable about tactics. And me.

"Mara Jade, possibly a liaison to the smugglers." She did not seem to happy about it, but I was glad she was here.

"Gotab, Mandalorian with a personal interest in not seeing Palpatine rule a second time," Jusik said. Oh dear, I really had to be careful when I addressed him.

"Fenn Shysa, the closest thing to a political power you will find among the Mandalorians," Green Two said. I did remember that name because it sounded like Ken and he did look like one, too. The artists of SW. I should have submitted a formal complaint.

"Sava Brec Madak," Green One said. His demeanour dared Han to disagree. He also ignored me thoroughly. Again, who could blame him?

"Jaing Skirata, speaking fro Clan Skirata," Jaing went on as if nothing happened. "Ready to kill Palpatine in time this time."

Luke stirred next to me, but didn't say anything. It might come as a surprise that there were still people around who had seen Palpy's first rise to power.

"Kassandarn Arn, personal adjutant of Grand Admiral Thrawn who cannot be seen to attend a meeting like this." He grinned and winked at Winter.

"Mellanna Morrison, coordinator of the Byss mission." I wasn't sure how to introduce myself. I only knew I would not start by being Thrawn's wench. "Voice of reason and super-glue of this cooperation."

In this very moment the tea arrived, saving me from further embarrassing myself. It would be fun to see how and if the Mandos tackled the problem. But for the moment I simply inhaled the scent with closed eyes. I had tea. Everything was well. For one moment at least.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	165. 164

One-Hundred and Sixty Four

Of course the tea-induced perfection couldn't last forever. And getting my act together, I did not return to reality reluctantly, but opened my eyes and was there. Unfortunately. The mood had not brightened perceptibly overall.

"So, what we're here to do is agree on a structure that allows us to concert a joint attack on Byss and dispose of the reborn Emperor. Can we agree on that?"

More or less visible nods answered me. So far so good. Now-

"How do you know he is back at Byss?" Boba asked into the silence.

The agreement turned into curiosity. Oh dear. "I know," I replied pointedly. "And we have a unit on Byss who managed to send information already without being caught."

"He will keep sending information?" He went on.

"If he can." I did my best to stay calm. His tone was enough to drive me up the pole. "The ultimate goal is to have him transmit crucial data from the surface when it is too late for Palpatine to do something about the breach."

"That might be a bit too late to have such data," Han chimed in. Now that was an unlikely alliance right there.

"The unit in question has worked with the organiser of the attack for fifteen years, so I think they understand each other. Not to mention that I have faith in Thrawn as well as Ackbar that they can handle fast thinking in relation to upcoming fighting."

Before I could get out another word, everybody else tried to beat me to it. And the estimation of how much time would be enough, or not enough and which degree of usefulness was worth the risk or not and who would be graded how and why and could you PPOR that please. Anyway, who _would_ handle it and who would get it when and how and shouldn't everybody know at the same time and how should that work out, really?

I decided to concentrate on drinking tea which was certainly a lot more dignified that bounce your forehead of the tabletop with a resigned sigh. "Okay, are you done yet?" I asked into a relative lull of the discussion.

Eleven faces turned to look at me, not counting the Noghri. I had the sad feeling that they had already discarded me (rather truthful) as harmless. "Because I don't think this will get us anywhere. Just saying." I took another sip of my tea. It tasted slightly green and decidedly bitter. "Nobody wants to forgo the information. Everybody should get it, I agree there. But I don't think any of our commanding officers will agree to lead the battle from the other party's flagship."

My smile was brittle and rather desperate. "And seeing the communications infrastructure necessary, I don't think anything smaller than this," I waved a hand generally around, "will be able to handle it."

Nods of agreement followed. I suspected they agreed to the latter part of the statement. "So neutral ground will be - " I stopped myself. Neutral ground would be, lets say a Star Destroyer, only it wasn't allowed to be an Imperial Star Destroyer. Well. I looked at Mara very slowly. "There might be a ship we could use. I think?"

She was rigid and her nod almost imperceptible. "Maybe."

"I will leave it to you then. The offer is," I suddenly grinned, "complete repairs and for distinction purposes a nice new paint coat. Maybe red?"

She raised a brow. It was annoying how everybody in this universe seemed able to do this except for me. "I will suggest this."

"Great." If anybody was bothered by how she didn't say who she'd ask, I assumed they knew. If everybody else was able to raise a single brow, they were sure capable of gathering information of a rogue Star Destroyer. "So, assuming we will have neutral ground from which to conduct a three-way command structure, how does such a set up have to look like?"

"Has your knowledge ever been scrutinised systematically?" Boba interrupted me again.

"Yes." I did not show any signs of annoyance. "Extensively for," I hesitated, "at least a day. I don't remember much."

"Why is that?"

"Because I was crammed full with drugs? I would have hiccuped happy pills. And I am not sure I do want to remember more," I added. "Just in case there was torture involved." Arn stirred beside me but I ignored him.

A ripple went through the rest of the assembly. I tried to relegate the idea to the back of my mind. It had been a very good idea for getting myself out of Boba's stupid questioning, but I did not really want to find out about its truthfulness. Like ever. "So I was saying-"

"Why three parties?" Mara interrupted me.

"It's an operation of the Empire." I ignored the rising murmurs. "One that I cannot accomplish without the Republic; one I do not want to accomplish without the Mandalorians. I have taken the smugglers out of the equation because I don't think they're likely to take sides. I didn't want to put them on the spot by forcing them to."

She nodded. But there's be smugglers around anyway. She'd be there and so might Booster. I wondered what other questions were waiting for me that I had not been exactly been thinking off before.

"Why Mandalorians?" Han helped me out with that.

"Because," I replied slowly trying to think up a presentable truth fast, " they are excellent in what they do. And I trust them."

Silence.

Trust was obviously still an issue and not available in abundance in this room. I suppressed another sigh.

"You trust us?" I felt Luke's eyes heavily on me. He was trying to find the answer to that not only in my words, I was sure of that. But that was fine. I didn't intend to lie.

"I trust you," I said looking directly at him. "And I do trust Solo, and Retrac and Antilles as well. Jade, too, once she decided to support this operation fully." I held her glare for a moment before moving on to my side of the table.

"Of course, I trust Arn, Skirata and Gotab." I congratulated myself for remembering that. "Shysa I trust be default because he's with Skirata."

"You do not trust Madak?" Luke tilted his head slightly, and I had to erase the immediate impression of contempt. Instead I tried to hammer the name Madak into my memory. Stupid bounty hunter.

"Not further than I can throw him," I replied as serious as I could. "And I do not have the resources to ascertain his continued services." I inclined my head slightly.

Boba just leant back. Han scrutinised me, probably wondering when Fett would kill me for this and if that was a good opportunity to knife him in the back. Winter conversed softly with Celchu and Wedge while Mara and Luke stared at each other so intently that it passed for conversation. And my Mandos more likely than not had their own private channel and a running commentary on the whole meeting anyway.

"Just look at how far we have already come," I said over the murmurs. "What would you have thought, if six months ago somebody would have told you, you'd attend a meeting like this?"

"That peace with the Empire is impossible," Winter said promptly. There were nods of agreement on her side of the table. Some indicating that this point might very well still be valid.

"That it would cost you," Jaing made his point.

"That the Grand Admiral will need some very good reasons to allow such folly," Arn added.

I did not roll my eyes at him. "And still," I looked around, "here we are, conduction impossible folly and I am not paying anything."

"I'm out," Boba declared, ruining my whole plan. "There's nothing at stake for me."

"I didn't expect you to turn up at all -" My mouth moved, but I did catch myself. Not timely enough to cover the fact that I had been about to use a probably very improper form of address. Curiosity abounded but I refused to go on. Getting myself killed by Fett would not improve matters.

His complete lack of a reaction left an emptiness in the room I didn't know how to fill. Neither did anybody else. But that was it. As if Fett had gone to stand-by, which well he might; or he already planned other things in that helmet. I could only speculate. Only that I didn't have time for that.

"Okay." The word fell into the silence like a stone. I got out the datacards with Thrawn's information. "This is the suggestion for a plan." I handed one to Luke and threw the other to Jaing. "I think you should look at them and then we'll see."

Both sides exchanged something like glances while I picked up my cup again. I'd do initiative, but only for so long. And I was running out of patience already. It was a shame that not everybody was convinced that this was saving the galaxy and should have priority.

"Mellanna," Arn turned towards me. "I just want you to know-"

"Don't," I interrupted him. "I know what you want to say because everybody in my position would want to hear it. But don't, because right now I am just not going to believe it. Maybe some other day. Later or when there is nothing left to prove."

He gave me a hurt look.

"If you insist we can talk about it on the way home," I gave in. "But I don't think it's going to get any better. Worse, more likely."

"Do you really think, we'd keep something like that secret from you?"

"Arn," I tried my best reasonable voice. "I am sure there are a lot of things you hide from me. And most of that the kind I'd want to bash the Grand Admiral's head in for. I don't want to see your file labelled 'Info Mellanna Must Not Know Or She'll Freak Out And Throttle Thrawn.' Or at least try to and get some moral high ground." I kept my voice very soft. Not that the bucket heads would listen in anyway if they wanted. But apart from Boba I worried about none of them.

The Republic was in obvious discussion and not looking happy overall, or agreed. It was more difficult to tell with the Mandos as the only sign of conversation was minimal helmet movement.

"I thought you had a better opinion of us by now," Arn replied.

"Oh, I think you're all splendid individuals," I assured him. "Just the Empire's not. And don't tell me Thrawn ain't gonna use anything he can get his hands on. He's up against the Vong for longer than me even and moral high ground has worn off by now."

Arn bit his lip but managed to stay silent.

"I'm still on your side, if that helps any?"

He rolled his eyes and I returned my attention back to my tea. Life was difficult enough without having to remember all the nasty bits all the time. If I could, I'd just ignore all that was wrong about the Empire. Until I did stumble over that confidential file. I was not looking forward to that.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	166. 165

One-Hundred and Sixty Five

I was dreaming of sleep. With my eyes wide open and my hands curled around and unfortunately empty cup, I stared off into the distance and dreamt of sleep. Curling up under a soft blanket. Closing my eyes... Oh yeah!

For a change the Republics were arguing with the Mandos. I loved the break this gave me, though I was somewhat aware that I should probably be listening to their talking instead of dreaming of my bunk. But it had a _blanket_.

I also tended to snap at people more and more. Usually it was Han who had a knack for asking questions that annoyed me. And he didn't have a fangirl-bonus going for him like many others in the room. Celchu kept very quiet, his eyes on Arn and when he asked questions they were rather pointed. And about the Empire. He worried me, but Arn seemed determined not to let anything on.

Wedge was the one who was actually most down to task. I would have to get him into contact with Dave, not only because I could not really answer most of his questions. I knew what he was getting at, and that was an achievement for me. Not that it helped him any.

Fett was still on stand-by. Snapping at him might have cut the negotiations, not to mention my life, short. At least the lines of command seemed kinda established, provided Ackbar and Thrawn didn't bang each other's heads in. And I was not having any issues with ground command because that was so not my problem. Even after Arn told me that it was very much my problem. I did have no qualms delegating command to whoever wanted it. I sure didn't.

Neither did Luke, but that was fine. He was supposed to take down a hopefully rather distracted Palpatine. Distraction by Mandos should prove effective, especially since I could practically see Jusik grin under his helmet. A very grim and vengeful grin, but a grin still.

"I don't like it." Han again.

"Didn't we discuss that twice already?" A mindful Republican had refilled my cup. Otherwise I would have thrown it at Han. But tea was tea, and I was so tired. I began to doubt that caffeine was part of this tea at all. I might have killed for a biscuit.

"Not with satisfying results." Han crossed his arms across his chest. "He's not just the only Jedi Knight left, but also my friend. I won't see him unnecessarily endangered."

I looked into my cup trying to ban the image of killing Han with the non-existent biscuit. "If you have a plan that gets Palpatine up on our ship safely instead getting us down to face him, I am all ears," I said. "Otherwise I suggest you trust in Master Skywalker's ability to assess the situation and decide for himself."

"He's idealistic," Han countered. "He'd sacrifice himself if he thought it'd help."

Well, he wasn't alone there. I didn't sigh. I didn't say it either. "Nobody wants to sacrifice Master Skywalker," I replied softly. "He is-"

"Perfectly aware of the risks," Luke finished my sentence. "I understand your concern," he nodded at Han, "and I also understand you insistence, Ms Morrison. There simply is no other Jedi."

"We could round up some," Jusik suggested.

Even I could feel the shock running through Luke. No, he was not the only Jedi around. But by my estimation he was by far the strongest and most capable one. "There is more than one?"

"Possibly." Somehow I didn't think the helmet was of much use in the staring match that ensued.

"We should stay in contact," Luke finally said. And that was that.

I realised Han was going to ask another of his questions. "To return to the division of ground and space forces," I began hastily.

He sent me a scalding look and completely ignored my attempt. "I still don't think-"

"What's new," I interrupted him right back. I also almost caused a fist fight which I would have lost, had I not apologised immediately. "I think I do need some caffeine if I have to be civilised for much longer."

"Can't we just wrap this up?" Mara asked. "As long as we're not certain about the ship to set up command on, it's all just pipe dreams."

I was ready to pounce on the chance. "If that's okay with everybody else? I will give you my comm data so I can put you in contact with our battle coordinator. I assume you'll want to discuss the information I gave you and work out something on your own."

There was no protest. I was about to end the meeting when I remembered a last item. "Another thing, and you won't like it."

"What's new," Han growled. This time it was my turn to ignore him.

"It is very sensitive information, so I'd prefer to share it with fewer people." They'd share it with who they thought right anyway. I didn't say that out loud, though. Sometimes even I didn't state the obvious. "If the following would please leave the room for now."

I braced myself. Not that it could be helped. "Madak and Solo. Shysa and Celchu. Antilles and Gotab. Sorry." I left it open to interpretation if the sorry was only for Jusik or all who had to leave. I noted that the Noghri stayed where they were.

"It's just a bit of background information I cannot have leaked. Or we're all fragged." I had their attention. "You may be aware that the Empire is not actually a united body as yet."

Mara snorted, Winter nodded and Luke just waited what came next. My Mandos might as well have been statues. Arn was getting ready to interfere. I did have the trust of the Empire indeed.

"We are trying to get the better of Isard and Krennel during the Byss operation," I explained. "So if you hear weird rumours, just ignore them. Everything is under control and if nobody tries to save me or help Isard we should all be fine."

"Do you plan to remove them both?" Winter asked in a precise voice.

"That depends on how useful and cooperative Prince-Admiral Krennel is," I replied. "We might just promote him to a place where he can't do much harm."

"You can do that?" Luke wanted to know.

"Thrawn will find something." I ignored the calculating glances my trust in his Admiralship gained me. "The important thing is that nobody is worried and gets nervous and tries to save the day."

"We can do that." Jaing said. "We are good at not saving your ass."

Somehow I was not surprised. "Thank you."

"And Shysa wants a word with you before you leave."

Oh? Okay, I could do that. Though I actually wanted a word with Mara before I left. Without Arn watching if possible. Which did not seem very possible since he was watching me warily ever since I sent half the assembly away.

"We will keep your words in mind," Luke said. It was not really the answer I wanted, but I trusted him enough to do the right thing that I accepted it.

I nodded. "That's it then. If there's no more questions I can actually answer or things I need to note, I'd say we're done." Finally. The image of my bunk wafted through my mind with siren-like appeal.

There was general nodding murmurs and getting up. When we left the room, Arn went towards Celchu. I stayed beside Luke and as expected, Mara caught up with us. I glanced at Arn a last time. "I need to contact Karrde," I told Mara. "Without the Empire knowing." I handed her my brand new comm.

She turned it over in her hands. "Why?"

"Because I would like some unbiased, and also unfiltered information about what's going on in the galaxy. And I need to find out what I can give Karrde in return." My resources were limited. I wondered if she knew how limited.

"Can I ask what you are up to?" Luke wanted to know.

"Of course." I didn't take my eyes off Mara.

"There might be a lot of information you won't like," she warned me.

"Yes, I'm afraid there is, but I'd rather know." I shook my head slowly. "I sure would love to forget and ignore, but that won't help anybody. Not even me in the long run."

Her fingers danced over the comm. "I can't promise anything," she said. When she tried to give it back, Luke intercepted it.

"We should stay in contact." His tone was neutral, maybe even cold. I didn't care.

"Thank you, Master Skywalker." I indicated a bow. He might not be my friend, big brother or allotted comforter in this galaxy. But he was here and talking to me. I could not help the way I made up my worlds in the past. I slipped the comm into one of my pockets again. "I do hope we will meet again."

A hand descended on my shoulder. "Shysa is waiting."

I glanced at Jaing over my shoulder. Then I turned to Luke and Mara again. "May the Force be with you."

Jaing dragged me off before I had a real chance to see their reactions or receive a goodbye in return. Shysa was standing a bit apart, managing to betray impatience. I nodded a greeting, somewhat happy to have Jaing at my back.

"What do you know about the political system of the Mandalorians?" he wanted to know.

"Not much," I admitted. "You're mostly nomadic, organised in clans, but there is a Mand'alor, possibly not only in times of need who is the political and maybe military leader. Last I know the job was held by Jango Fett before he got himself all cloned."

"I am holding the position now," Shysa said after a pause. "Though I heard you saw Boba Fett in it?"

"Oh, but that would be twenty years from now, approx. He's not much of a traditional Mando and it took him quite a while to reconnect with the culture."

"You have helped that reconnection?"

I considered the message I gave Boba. "Possibly. I don't know. I was not really interested in those times." Oops. I felt Shysa's eyes on me right through the tinted visor. "I know it sounds strange to talk of your future as history. I apologise."

"We should stay in contact."

How often had I heard that today? "I'd love to."

"The Mandalorians will be a force to reckon with again," he informed me. "We will re-enter the political scene of the galaxy."

"Wonderful. As long as you don't get delusions of grandeur again." I looked at Jaing. "I am counting on you to prevent that."

He nodded. "Why did Retrac sit in on the second part of the meeting?"

"Well," I hedged. "I wanted both sides to have a reliable protocol of it." I flinched as his glance wandered over to Winter with a knowing little nod.

"Noted. We're off."

"Thank you for coming. All of you." I dared to glance at Boba who was not quite on stand-by anymore, but not interested in anything that was not departure-related.

Arn appeared at my side. "Ready?"

I nodded. "Let's go." Looking over my shoulder I made sure Rukh followed. To my surprise he wasn't talking to his fellow Noghri, though I was sure I had seen them together from the corner of my eye earlier. His features betrayed nothing.

I was more than happy to leave helm to Arn. Though a bit surprised we didn't return to the _Muunaak_. "Don't you want to get your ship?"

"I was using one of theirs', he replied without looking up.

I stared at his reflection in the viewport. Now what was that for advanced training? "Are you sure that it was called 'Advanced training'?" I asked him. "Will I ever get to know about it?"

"No." He pulled the hyperspace lever and looked up at me with a grin.

Rolling my eyes I turned to drop dead in my bunk. This day had been literally long enough for two.

Arn's pad beeped and suddenly he looked from its display to me and back stunned. Also a bit – I didn't know and maybe a tad amused. "We need to make another stop before we can return to the _Chimaera_," he announced.

"Great. Wake me when we arrive." I could so not care. I was within earshot of my bed! And then I sat on it, taking off the boots and blanking out the moment I lay down.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	167. 166

One-Hundred and Sixty Six

I had just fallen asleep when Rukh shook me awake again. Resistance was futile, so I got up and presentable. I wondered when Arn had last slept and if he was high on stims or something. Maybe I was just a wimp. There was no cup of tea before I was more or less dragged down the ramp into a small docking bay and ushered out and on immediately.

"Where are we?" I looked around as a speeder picked us up and sped off.

"The Jubilee Wheel," Arn told me. "It was conveniently near where we were and where we are going to be, plus it has the right facilities."

I looked out as the speeder zigzagged us past shop-fronts and cafés. When we were dropped off, my jaw also dropped a good deal. I turned to Arn.

He shrugged. "Grand Admiral's orders."

I turned back towards the shop. "Any specifications?"

"Nope." I could hear the suppressed grin in his voice.

My mind came up with the extremely unhelpful image of his Admiralship writing down a detailed list of what he considered appropriate – or what he wanted. The mind boggled. "Any limits?"

"None that I know of." Arn ushered me in.

It was making some kind of sense. I had arrived here with a wardrobe comprising a shirt, trousers, socks and underwear of some sort. Except the shirt all of above had vanished. I looked around as a young woman approached us with a big smile.

After explaining to her that no, Arn was not my boyfriend and as such would have no say at all in my choice, he was dispatched into a corner where the GFFA equivalent of magazines and coffee waited.

"So, what size are you?" Mya asked leading me away.

"An L."

She stopped and gave me a once-over. "No way," she shook her head. "I would say you're more an M."

I almost snorted. "Last time I looked-" And there I stopped. Yep. Last time I looked I had been at least an L. But that had been how long ago? With how much sports and chocolate-deprivation in-between. I sighed beat. "Okay. So maybe I'm an M. "

She laughed. "So what do you want?"

"Something that's still pretty when I wear it."

More laughter. "That is absolutely no problem. But what kind? Functional? Comfortable? Pretty? Kinky?"

I considered for a moment. The standard issued stuff sure counted as functional and comfortable. That left pretty and – well. How long since I had last worn a real corset? I wondered if I should just ignore his Admiralship and indulge my own wishes disregarding the complete lack of opportunities to actually wear garters and the like. Who'd know?

Well, somebody sure would get the bill for this. I blushed ferociously at the idea of anybody looking through the items on it. Okay. "Pretty, I think." Then I caved. "How kinky do you have to offer?"

Mya winked consiprationally. "I think we shall get along quite splendid. What about colours?"

"No pink," I burst out, earning even more laughter. Mya sure was a happy person. "Black, red, maybe blue and a little white?"

The following time, I was not sure how much was spent in a deluge of underwear. I made a point of not trying on everything but making a first choice narrowing the selection considerably.

I ended up in a cubicle within earshot of Arn with a huge pile of stuff anyway, sending Mya away with some more and very clear instructions. Somebody would pay for this. And I decided to milk it for all it was worth.

A try-on marathon followed I was not quite sure I was happy with. A silly girl was in the mirror, mocking me. There was sure less of her than I remembered. I squinted but she seemed to be curvy still. I let out a breath. At least there were no abs to be seen. I made a big note to keep my eyes peeled for them and make a point of cake should they ever dare to appear.

I glared at the mirror image that happily perused the choice of bras. "Who do you think you are?"

_Miss Pretty Darn Perfect._ She turned before the mirror smugly before she stuck out her tongue at me. The only reason I didn't lunge at her was that my hands didn't go through the glass.

"Are you okay?" Arn called.

I glared at the mirror wench, cradling my hand. "Mostly," I ground out. It was a comfort, that the shameless bint had a similar taste to mine; she chose mostly reds, blacks and grey, but added a rather exasperating amount of light blues. Some women!

In the end I packed up about as much of the stuff as I had owned back home. I closed my eyes for a strained moment banning lost clothing from my mind. Then I strode out of the changing room, thrusting the stuff at the Mya.

"Is that all?" Arn asked.

I looked from him to the heap of underwear. "Yes, what did you expect?"

"Well, more and maybe some of that..." He indicated the nightgowns with his head.

"Naw," I objected. "Those are useless, get in the way and rip."

"Yes."

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "Keep your fantasies to yourself."

"I am just trying to be helpful," he countered. "And I doubt my fiancée would approve."

"Your fiancée?" I almost walked into the closed speeder door before me. How come everybody suddenly had a fiancée? And why had he never mentioned that before?

"Because until recently, she has not been my fiancée," he explained. "Her parents are nobility in the Core and would not hear of a lowly Ensign as a possible match for their daughter."

"And now, that your Thrawn's right-hand man, things look different?" The speeder took off.

"Exactly." Arn looked exceedingly happy. "She is also entrusted with organisational duties in creating the new political order of the Empire."

"You mean like writing a constitution and setting up a parliament and elections?"

"Almost," Arn said. "You will surely get to know the specifics soon enough."

"As soon as she worked them out or as soon as I remember to ask the Grand Admiral?" I wanted to know.

"Yes," he just replied.

Okay, I could see a dead-end when I saw one. New topic. „And her parents are really that stubborn?" I had trouble wrapping my mind around an idea that was so – so Austen.

„The smaller the actual influence, the bigger the pride," Arn lectured. „And her family can trace back their ancestors for millennia."

Which translated into very proud, I suspected. And into no influence at all, judging from their policies. "Is that normal in the core?"

Arn looked at me. "Yes." His tone indicated that he suddenly realized that my background was not like his at all.

I gave him a 'what-did-you-expect'-look. "I just didn't think you're still so feudal."

"Where did you grow up?" He asked incredulous.

"A rather democratic place," I replied. "The privilege of excluding others came with money."

"No better," he said.

"Not really, no," I admitted. "But the fantasy that everybody can get lots of money is easier to keep up than the idea that we'll all marry nobility."

"True," he agreed as we climbed up the ramp of the _Liberty_. "You fly."

"And you sleep?"

"You wish."

"Judging from your tone, I probably do. It doesn't bode well."

"You know me too well." He grinned at me from the co-pilot's chair and I went through the pre-flight routines.

"All systems green, clamps released."

"Take her out."

"Him, actually."

"It's a ship," Arn objected.

"My ship," I replied. "And I like to surround myself with men. They're easier to handle."

He chuckled.

"Yah, I grumbled. "Making the obvious exception."

If I had still hoped that the flight would be spent in somehow agreeable leisure, Arn disabused me of the notion very quickly. As expected his plans didn't include sleep and the following information dump wasn't fun at all. It was all very useful, of course, political updates needing the use of three-dimensional star charts so I would see who was doing what and how that might affect the borders. Or not. I felt like I was back at the Trade Federation blocking space lanes or something. Meh.

"At least try to look awake," Arn scolded. "We're laying down the borders of the new Empire here."

"What do they have to do with me?"

"You're going to visit. Put everybody in good humour, smile a lot and chat amiably." He smiled. "Be the friendly face of the Empire."

"I'm not sure that an alien and a female are quite the right face to put on the Empire for your old Imperial friends."

"The old elite can keep their Moffs and nobility," Arn said. "You're supposed to win the new ones."

"Oh dear."

Arn did not reply to that and called up another star chart. "Gargon, a very interesting case."

Mercy was obviously a concept unknown in the Empire. I tried to follow his explanations as well as I could but things were complicated and the Alliance was involved and doing stupid things for no reason, but then the Empire was no better. Had not been better and there I lost it again because I kept anticipating the arrival at the _Chimaera_.

Arn frowned at my consistent yawning. My inner clock was in tatters and had decided that it was supposed to be night, screw the lighting. I was inclined to believe it. And then, finally, night was visible around the corners of the _Chimaera_ and we were back and I could hear my bunk calling all the way down to the hangar.

I fled Arn as inconspicuously as I could, stacked my purchases against a wall and dropped face first onto my bunk after removing my boots. Oh yeah. Sleep!

Only - I sat up again, that sleep was quite out of the question. I peered at the sliding wall panel. It was actually part of the job description. And still, and yet, and really, did I have to, like right now? I stared at my hands. I stared at the bulkhead. Then I slowly got up and padded over to it.

When I placed my hand on the control, I found myself staring into a darkened room. The only light came from behind me, casting my shadow onto the floor before me in a bright frame. Thrawn was asleep and his soft breathing was a roar in my ears. I couldn't make my foot go forwards.

For a long moment I stood staring, unmovable. Nothing kept me from doing the normal thing, which in case of a normal relationship would have been just curling up beside that guy and go to sleep. Lowering my eyes, I slid the bulkhead close again.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	168. 167

One-Hundred and Sixty Seven

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!_

I lay staring at the ceiling above me for a moment feeling strange. I didn't even know how many days had passed precisely since I last heard the wake up call. A week? Two? All those time differences made it hard to keep the dates straight. Not to mention it played havoc with my inner clock.

But I was in a place that had my kind of tea. So I got up and ready for breakfast. My pad told me that I had a debriefing with his Admiralship scheduled first thing in the morning. I also noted that it was late enough to give Arn lots of space to report first.

So, priorities. I had them and I would keep them. I marched myself off to the refectory and grabbed breakfast. I was only starting on my second cup of tea, when my pad blared at me. I had been missing that. Somehow. I chided myself for the need of a higher authority to decide on things. Then I shrugged it off, seeing how reality had taken care of that snag conveniently. I should count myself lucky.

So I did. And also at least twelve differing charts of Byss hanging in space in the command room. I tried to memorise their different readouts as I approached the ring of double displays. That was sure enough important, even if my stupid head refused to admit it. This was war. I was a part of it it, and no, I still didn't like it. Not that anybody cared. All as usual.

The displays circling the command chair in the middle of the command room were brimming with battle plans. I would so love this conversation. Not. Thrawn was sitting in his chair with half closed eyes, almost a cliché of himself. I didn't really mind. It gave me time to collect my thoughts, which had strayed in all directions at seeing him again.

"Good morning, sir."

He didn't turn or acknowledge me. He might be counting sirs again. I decided I would possibly not mind. He could just as well be thinking up the most devious attack plan that had ever been devised. I waited for a moment, looking at the displays and leant against the command chair. The high back of it rather invited leaning.

"I assume that Arn has already been here." There was still no reaction. "Sir?"

"Booster Terrik." He dropped the name just like that.

"Well." It seemed that we were past niceties now. "He's got a Star Destroyer. And he's more or less neutral."

"And expensive." Thrawn's head lifted a little.

"But it will be worth it." If we played it right, and he was Thrawn, so where was the risk? "You just need to make it work out."

"Which of course, I will."

"Of course." I smiled.

"If only everybody else was that confident about it."

Saying what? I stared ahead, trying to find any kind of inflection in that. There really wasn't. "What does everybody else think?"

Carefully he tilted his head in my direction which I deigned to read in human body language."That the Empire is too entrenched in its old ways to work without them. That it will collapse as soon as we try to turn it into a working political body. That the Republic will pounce on us as soon as the reborn Emperor is defeated. That this is madness." He turned his head to face me fully. "That I have fallen prey to ill influence."

I opened my mouth, thought better of it and just swallowed. Then I let myself slowly slide down to the floor along the command chair assembling myself into a puddle of confusion. Now this was - wow - all my fault? How would I have been doing this? Was this eighteenth century France or something? I bounced my head off the side of the chair, suppressing a pained curse. "Well, at least you have somebody to blame should this go all wrong. Good reason to get rid off me, too," I finally replied.

"Indeed. Though we will surely find a proper reason in case of our success as well."

Now that was comforting. At least he knew how to get rid of me. Well done, sir.

"Well, Krennel's no problem," I said to change the subject. "He thinks I'm acutely smitten with him, which doesn't surprise him at all, seeing how he's the be-all-end-all for womankind and the best match to be had, not to mention the most handsome hunk." I inhaled so I wouldn't burst into babbling laughter. "He's certain I'd happily betray you for the chance of getting laid thoroughly by him." Okay, I couldn't help but giggle-snort at the very idea.

"So I have heard." He could really have put some disapproval into his answer to condemn my happy tone. This guy was just impossible. I launched into an edition of the relevant, and hopefully a little bit annoying, parts of my stay with Krennel. For that I even got up and started pacing and gesticulating wildly. There was no other way to adequately describe the hilarity of the Prince-Admiral in his more adorable moments.

I was just taking a moment to wipe off Krennel's glances from my memory and skin when Thrawn spoke up.

"So you have acquired new clothes."

I looked down my uniform stumped. Then my head caught up. "Ah, yes." I hesitated. Those awkward dresses. "I am not quite sure what to do with them."

"Keep them." Thrawn was studying those displays again. I wondered when I had become used to talking to the wall.

"Well, I am personally not too fond of the style," I admitted.

He glanced at me shortly. "Krennel's judgement of figure is accurate, even if his approach to accentuation is rather blunt."

I opened my mouth. I shut my mouth. Had there been - possibly, maybe, if you looked at it form the right angle - some kind of compliment involved?

"You will also need a full wardrobe for your journey to Csilla," Thrawn went on.

Well, so much for that. Not that I had given it any thought. I wondered if I'd really have to wear the dresses again before leaving. Maybe the dogma of never wearing anything in public twice applied? I really hoped so. Or after leaving, I mean, what did the people on Csilla know about fashion here?

"Anyway," I took up the narration again. "There are seven operating defence stations underground already. He's working on another three right now, but nothing to be functional within another year."

I started pacing again. Krennel had been so incredibly careless with data security that I expected half my information to be false. But hey, I had a Grand Admiral to work things out. I looked at him and realised that I must have stopped in the middle of a sentence. Shaking my head slightly I sank into a cross-legged position on the floor.

"So, Chazwa. Been there, done that, almost got a t-shirt. Still. I don't get it, sir." I threaded my fingers, tapping my thumbs against each other in my lap. "I need to make it right. I am always running here and there, doing _things_. But I can't see the bigger picture. I just can't."

"I know." Thrawn got up, putting down the pad he had been consulting repeatedly. "That is why I am here."

I went through several gestures of resignation and irritation. "Fine. But will I ever?"

"You might. Provided you want to."

So we were back at that again. And I was, as ever, not sure if I wanted, if I dared to want. I was inherently a chicken. A coward. Any day. If I could. And maybe that was the crux, that I was not allowed to run anymore. Somebody had said enough and here I stood. Or sat. And wondered where I was at, when actually I knew but still looked for a loophole. Really, who was I fooling? Loophole in a plan made by Thrawn? I might just as well shoot myself.

I let myself be pulled up. "But am so scared." My skin was indeed tingling, the small hairs standing on end. I gained some personal space. "And sometimes I think that it will never pass."

"You will get used to it. You have a tendency to."

That was unfortunately true. The tentative normalcy of talking to Dave was proof enough of that. We moved lights around in the holograms between us as we talked strategy and unexpected problems. I wondered when I had picked up the right words to do so. But they all made sense. Search pattern, contingency orders, secondary mission objectives, comm silence procedures. My head wasn't even spinning.

The main complex of buildings remind a white space though.

"We will bring in additional teams of the Hand's 501st, " Dave said. A row of dots lighted up.

"We could try to team them with Mandos," I mused. "Like," I searched for the right words or image, "a hand. Fingers and a thumb. If one needs the other, they know where to go."

"Why would a squad need a Mandalorian?" Dave was not convinced.

"Why would a Mando need a squad?" I shrugged. "We're talking Palpatine here; anything is possible. It might also help with everybody's paranoia to keep an eye on everybody else." I moved the dots around the white pensively. Who did watch the watchmen indeed?

That would be me. I bit my lip staring at the blips.

"We can discuss this during the next meeting," Dave said into my thoughts. "It always helps to have some suggestions on you that you can easily abandon."

"My list?" Anything was better than thinking about it.

Dave handed me a datacard, almost smiling. "Training starts tomorrow, Ma'am."

"I really don't know what I'd do without you, Dave."

"Fail."

I nodded. So much for the advantages of straightforwardness. It was a trait Seros was immediately counteracting during lunch. I had a third recounting of my adventures, this time focussing on the dinner and manner related aspects. That I had not failed completely should have been encouraging me. It certainly encouraged Seros. I was getting the additional manners for a proper liaison officer on top of everything else. But hey, workload what workload?

And anything was better than to think. I would break up over it soon enough. There was so much to be done, though, better get as much of it behind me as I could. I would never, ever make a good conscience. Or a bad one.

There was only the shooting range left with Arn. And then I had to call upon the Prince-Admiral and learn the lists by heart. Not to mention align them to Mandalorian ones and keep an eye on all the news. Piece of cake.

I actually had one with a cup of tea after shooting exercise. Arn had been moderately happy about my progress. Hitting a fixed object while standing was working out okay. Next step was adding movement in all departments. Finishing of my tea with a sigh (I had only been able to glance at Dave's datacard) I put on a smile. On to the next one.

"Good morning, beautiful." Krennel was smiling all over his face. But so was I.

"It is actually evening here," I winked. The exchange of meaningless pleasantries was actually pleasant and not really meaningless. I did get tired of the innuendo pretty soon, though. If I could detect it, it was obvious. That much I knew. "I heard that I shall have reason to be jealous soon."

"Oh, but do not fear, my dear." He even put a hand over his heart. "Isard will stay only for a short while."

"But you might want to leave with her," I objected. "Lured away by cunning beauty."

"I might," Krennel said pensively. "Who knows what might come from it."

"Who indeed." I dared to wink. "I will just trust that her cunning is no match for my devotion." I was proud of myself for being able to say that without breaking into mad giggles. This was beyond cheesy, not to mention truth.

"Rest assured of that." He made the effort to blow me a kiss across the galaxy before cutting the connection.

I made another cup of tea. And while I sipped on it, I stared at the dark screen. It felt like the perfect occupation. What had my life come to? The Prince-Admiral blew me a kiss for reasons. The Grand Admiral did not for other reasons. What had happened to simple love. I had been there. I had been doing it the simple way. What had happened to that?

I closed my eyes trying to think of my non-admiral and former boyfriend. I could hardly remember his face. I could barely remember his voice. How long was I here now? At least I could remember the colour of his eyes: green-brown like sunlight on trees. I pressed my lips together. Because that was it. The colour of his eyes. I remembered that.

But that wasn't enough. Why, the hell, had I been in love with that guy? Music, disco, cooking - all that was just reasons again. And the reasons alone didn't add up. They didn't turn the heap of facts into love mysteriously. Not at all. I had forgotten - actually fucking forgotten - why I loved my boyfriend.

And while I was at it, I had just forgotten how it had felt. Great, just great. All I could feel now was complications, contradictions and generally confused. This was not how this should be working. Really. Not at all. I felt I should be crying about my loss. I stared at the black monitor and couldn't. I just couldn't and I wasn't even numb.

I got myself into my bunk carefully, making sure I did not rest my back against the bulkhead and breathed in and out diligently. Then I bit down on my fist, curled up and tried to forget that I was not asleep yet. Getting used to it, my eye.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	169. 168

One-Hundred and Sixty Eight

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!_

I hadn't slept well. I felt like I had a headache, when actually having none, from all the things throbbing in my head just beyond reach. But there had been no long, dark corridors and running. It was all tangled, twisted and squirming. I rubbed my eyes in an effort to get rid of the afterimages. I had no time for this.

And I had still woken up with my back pressed against the bulkhead behind me. Shaking my head at this sad lack of constraint I got up. I expected more from me. Well, that might just be the problem. I stared down my breakfast still mulling over the right amount of expectation to be applied to myself. Naturally, I didn't come to any conclusion. Less than perfect, more than average was too wide a field to be useful.

Seros was not helping any. He was doing his best to turn me into a perfect representative of highest standing. I obliged as well as I could. Still I was happier with my sports because progress was much easier seen there.

"It's only going to get worse," Arn assured me as I commented on that.

"Was there ever any other option?" I wanted to know. There was an ominous entry reading 'command training' with Dave's name attached to it on my schedule.

"There might," he replied. "Had you been looking for it."

"Thank heaven for my blindness then. I would be better of as a coward." I sighed. "No, not really."

He clapped a hand down on my shoulder. "Say that again when you're dead."

"And you're the reason?" I mocked. "But I know that already. Maybe I shall say it after Dave is through with me tonight." I stopped and considered my words, then shrugged. "Will nobody here ever be convinced of the fact that I am not command material?"

"We all _know_," Arn objected. "We just have to change that."

Rolling my eyes I vanished to have lunch with Seros and a couple of manners I hadn't encountered before. The man was a treasure trove. Which didn't make him any less annoying. In the free time after lunch I read up on the news and found it extremely confusing. Since Arn had mentioned Gargon I had tagged it. I liked tags.

Not that it helped any. the Republic claimed that they were about to win the planet over, while the Empire said just the same. In the middle there were several gangsters complaining about the abounding of sudden law and order, citizens complaining about the lack of business due to lack of gangsters and satirists making funny drawings I didn't understand. Well.

The other news could be less puzzling, but were not. Even with Karrde's information in the mix nothing was actually clear. People were talking each others heads in with no actual evidence or proof. It was ridiculous. I was rather relieved when my pad beeped at me. I had mail. W00t. Okay, it consisted of the whole of one comm code. This was fun.

The connection sprang into life and I was facing a blank screen. "Hi there," I greeted it happily.

"I heard you might be looking for me," an unknown male voice replied.

"I might." I tilted my head slightly. "I am looking for many people, some even male. How can I help you?"

There was a snort before he answered. "I thought I was meant to help you."

"Well," I drew the word out. "Should you happen to have a Star Destroyer, yeah. If not - I am still looking for chocolate."

"As crazy as I have been told," he said. "I heard there were conditions for the venture?"

"Ah, yes." I would just assume I was talking with Booster Terrik. "It would need a bit of repairing, or so I heard. Communications, engines, possibly weapons. No charge. Also a paint job so nobody takes you for an Imperial by accident. Also, no charge.

"Of course, you'd have extremely excitable leaders of fleets on the bridge for a while and only heaven knows how to get along with those. Or how they get along with each other. They might just implode your ship with their bad karma and attitude."

"I see." There was a long pause. "Do you believe it will work?"

"I believe that if anything will work, this is it," I relied cautiously. "We're talking Palpatine here. You might know how devious he is."

A possibly affirmative snort came through the line. And I waited. I didn't know what to say. My cards were in the open. I had nothing else to offer. Then the connection broke off. I didn't even try to call again. Instead I called Jaing. Who didn't answer so I didn't leave a message because I didn't even know why I had called. Probably I wanted to talk to somebody.

That could be helped. I made some tea and then turned to Rukh with a sudden, doing my best to pin him down with my glare. "Tea. You and me. Now!"

He made no move and did not take the cup I was shoving at him.

"I am not joking, Rukh." I poked him with the cup and just let go, counting on his warrior reflexes to save the cup. He did. "See, that wasn't so hard. And there I have a nice little lounge, completely unused. This shall change. Now."

"What is it you want to discuss?" He put the cup down at the first possible moment.

"Everything," I proclaimed. "Starting with galactic politics I don't get anything off. And then life, and philosophy, war and peace and everything between. I am lonely. I need a friend. I am sorry."

Completely black eyes were excellent for staring. And he didn't blink for the longest time. In the end I was mostly talking to myself. Rukh wasn't much for answering, or questioning, but I was beyond caring. He also didn't touch the tea and I was pretty certain Noghri were not allergic to it. He was sure a role model of a bodyguard. It would probably take some time to disabuse him of that idea. I sure failed with my first attempt. At least my head was a bit more sorted afterwards.

A state Dave took care off rather terminally. When he said command training, he meant it. I was shooed around and ordered to command people. Lots of people. In a sensible way.

"You were supposed to have the commands down pat by now," he admonished repeatedly.

"I know. I spent all of my free time on it, too," I assured him. But, did he realise, that pages upon pages of commands didn't learn themselves and also tended to get mixed up at first? Obviously not. That's what you get for training with a guy who had been designed and bred to fight. And did it with pride and conviction.

It said a lot about me, too, that the only things I always remembered were 'about face' and 'rear, march'. With that attitude we'd never even get into Palpy's stronghold. "Move about," I murmured, "about not around." Except if I really wanted to surround, but that would only work in combination with ordering the right bits of troops around and about in the right words, too.

"Okay, back to OPs. Once again." I added 'with feeling' only inside my head. The only feeling the troops were currently having (provided they were real and not programmed, did I hope for them they were just a program) were those of exasperation and resignation.

"We should have started on this sooner," Dave commented. "You are exceptionally slow at picking this up."

Well, thank you for that. It was not new to me that things I didn't care for took me longer to learn. It wasn't really my fault, I decided. "Advance in cover," I repeated to myself. "Break cover, take cover, back up, back out, backup, move about, search pattern Iforgotthenameof, we're all gonna die, we're all gonna die, we're all gonna fucking die."

"Ready?" Dave seemed impatient. I didn't blame him.

"As ready as I'll get." I took a deep breath and called up the display. At least I didn't get sick immediately anymore when I tried to walk (not to mention run) with the green lights hovering a foot before my face.

Still I was a little dizzy as I finally stumbled into Thrawn's study through the official entrance. I was somewhat relieved to find holographic pictures scattered around. I didn't know how well I would have taken more strategic political border talk. On the other hand there was sure to be political talk, even if this was another of those dinner-included events.

"You seem exhausted," his Admiralship deigned to comment as I flopped down on my chair and rolled my shoulders.

I gave him a long blank stare. "Well," I then began, "Dave is putting me through hell. So is Arn and Seros too, in his own very polite way. So, yeah. I am tried. But you know what they say about going through hell."

"I might."

I flashed him a smile before taking the arrangement before me in. Damned Chiss eating rituals. Why did they have to make something as wonderful as food so complicated? "Is it really necessary," I began, deciding to have something peacefully vegetarian for starters, "that I command anybody in the Byss mission?"

"There is nobody else that all of the involved parties are considering to trust in at least tentatively." He denied my unspoken question with something fishy. Bother.

I looked down at the still unfamiliar cutlery in my hands as it moved around, finally settling on ungracious acceptance. "I wouldn't think they do even that."

"They will."

I stared at him gain. There he was, genius of the galaxy, most intelligent man ever, saying something like this with conviction. About me. I mean, really! _Me_. I would have doubted him, from here to hell and back again, but he knew what he was doing. He always did. And yet. He would get it right. And in this case that mean he'd get me right. And, despite being in the middle of this imbroglio and didn't get it; didn't see how it should work the least.

"I just expected more of me." I managed not to reach for self-deprecating roots but forced my hand towards the determination and challenge setting chutney stuff. "I still do, better results, faster."

"To what end?" Honest curiosity? I sure doubted his salad.

"Perfection." I confirmed that with fowl. "Not that it works." I chewed thoughtfully. "But it gives me something to work on."

"To work on forever."

"Yup. It's a state not all of us reach," I said pointedly and was rewarded with a raised brow. "And no, you do not wonder what's going on inside my head."

"And how would you know that?"

"I don't. But I feel like keeping the conversation light and you do not have a reputation for that." More fowl found its way onto my plate.

"I see." He actually switched to vegetables. "Would you rather discuss music or arts then?"

Once I got over the shock of an accommodating Thrawn. Which was amazingly easy after the first shock because discussing anything with his Admiralship was an undertaking necessitating the full use of ones mind. Lessons in all kinds of theory concerning the subject at hand would also be helpful. Since I didn't have them, Thrawn kindly helped me out.

I wandered to my quarters with my head swimming with concepts that were already intermingling happily. They shouldn't have time to do that. I was not taking that long, really. At least it didn't feel like it. Everything was actually so confusing, if in a good way, that I just went right back through the back door when I arrived.

My question died on my lips when I stumbled Thrawn sans coatee. Blinking a few times, I shut my mouth and shrugged the question off. "It'll come back to me," I said. "The question I just had, "I elaborated then. "At least, I think so."

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	170. 169

One-Hundred and Sixty Nine

There had been no wake up call. I would sure be late and I didn't feel to well. One of those days again. Keeping with tradition I rolled out of bed and dropped to the floor with a muffled sigh. Then I realised that it was not my floor, which meant that consequently I had also not dropped out of my bed. I suppressed my first instinct, namely jumping up in a frenzy and pretend nothing happened. Because it had, and covering up would not work. And this was me anyway.

"Oh, bother."

Slowly I raised my head and found myself alone. Bother indeed. I would sure be late for everything. Racing through the shower I grabbed my pad. It told me very calmly that it was six in the morning. Welcome to my nightmare. I went to have breakfast anyway. That's the good thing about living on a ship with several shifts. It's always morning for somebody.

"Tea, Earl Grey, hot," I told the man behind the counter. He shook his head, but gave me tea. I would not complain. Other than that it was yubi glob with fruits. The chocolate coloured mousse tasted of corn and lemon. 'Journey' was a bother to read and I was not ready for poetry yet as 'Sun and Eyes' proved. So I stared 'Into the Dark' which seemed to be some kind of science fiction thriller. If this category was applicable in the GFFA.

My pad blared at me that I would indeed be late if I didn't get started now. I was annoyed, because Sen'am'eron had just discovered that the spaceship he was on was deserted. With scary quirks and such. I approved of the story. Arn did not approve of me being late.

"I thought this topic was done for," he chided. "Hanging out with the 501st had done so nicely last time."

I mentioned how Dave did his best to kill me and how that might logically lead to me being late to my own death. Arn reacted with showing that my death might as well come early. It took me some time to realise that I was actually fighting without choreography and not losing. I had been here for too long. I had become, I had become - I didn't even want to know. But I was. And it seemed to work.

It didn't work where Seros was concerned, of course. Etiquette was not my strong point, I just didn't have as much enthusiasm for it. And Seros would not be distracted by talking about his family. I really learnt more about the art of deflecting from my attempts to make him talk then I learnt about making conversation.

And thus time went by. I managed not to die. Barely. I think it was Dave clapping my back at one time, even cracking a smile; and Seros nodding with that satisfied look on his face telling more than any praise; and Arn grinning from ear to ear at my target tally, promising me a poster to hang up on my wall; and Krennel wooing me with the ferocity of a thousand suns and as much subtlety; and even Thrawn.

"I don't care if the Chiss society reads it as a metaphor. It's a damned good story"

"The two are not mutually exclusive."

"They are, if you refuse to talk about the one." I folded my arms before me. "And just so you know, your poetry sucks."

An immaculate brow rose. "So you did come around to deciphering it?"

"Well," I hedged, "not quite. But beauty is simple and those poems are surely not." Arguing literature with Thrawn was dangerous, but I had more of a chance than trying to talk art.

"So how would you define that simplicity?" A host of poems sprung into life on the displays around us, hovering in the air like so many veils.

I had to admit they looked quite simple. "But I will always stand by the conviction that if you want to be understood, you should write in a way that makes this possible." I paced among the offensive bits of literature. Poems were not supposed to look simple. Except if you were into visual poetry. Or Ernst Jandl. Or both. Bother.

"They are said to be better understood if read," Thrawn explained.

I squinted at the nearest copy. "That may be true," I conceded, still squinting. "But it doesn't really help me." I pointed at the mix of broken morphemes running into each other wildly. "I get as far as '_rereo_'. That's the _title_, Thrawn! Anything could get put together in those words. And does," I added. "There's bits of time and space markers all over the place, not a single bit of pronoun and I am not sure if that is a piece of yellow or movement using feet in the last line."

"_Rereo,_" Thrawn read as he came to stand beside me.  
_"kekatei  
kikitu  
keitoatoa  
teitoatoa  
heimore  
reifore_"

I did not dare breath because I might have made undignified noises. The poem might have been a lot easier to understand if read loud. Of course that was assuming that you did not get distracted so thoroughly by the mere act of reciting it. "Not yellow then," I finally got out.

"Indeed not." There might have been a hint of amusement in his voice. This guy. I am sure he was doing things to my mind on purpose. Bastard. I banned the image of Thrawn reciting Paradise Lost. With some difficulty. I was actually still working on that when I finally fled to my quarter.

Looking around in it, I backed out again almost immediately, finding myself a quiet spot in the gym of the 501st. With all that violence around me I felt safe enough to embark on exploring the abandoned ship Sen'am'eron had found himself on. There were strange noises in the ventilation and darkness lurking in places and he was quite possibly not as alone as he thought.

I missed dinner and didn't even notice. Good old fiction. Since I was not supposed to miss dinner, I was duly summoned back to his Admiralship. That was alright because I wondered if the darkness was alive and if Sen'am'eron could communicate with it. Provided it didn't eat him first.

Thrawn was surprisingly kind to my distressed self. There were official tunics from Csilla again. I had forgotten almost nothing. Then I spotted a new pattern among the usual suspects. The tunic was mostly black. The palei meandered down from the right shoulder in a deep burgundy, almost invisibly counterpointed by a lighter red until it merged into the complicated twists of the nele. So much black. I stared for a long moment.

"Yours." It had taken me long enough to realise.

"Mine indeed."

I stared at his colour pattern. The pronounced palei, the dash of brighter red mingling with the burgundy unobtrusively, proving that those two houses had once fought over him hard. And the dominating black of the ensemble proved them right. "I wished I could join the military."

"Why?"

"Because I like wearing black."

"You can wear all the blue you want for the longest time, Mellanna."

The image of me in tight skin-blue clothes flashed across my mind. I shook it away and closed my eyes.

"You will be ready," he assured me softly, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I sighed. "No, I will not." After a pause I added, "but I'll do it anyway."

"If it doesn't work out, I will find another way."

I had to smile. "Of course you will."

He squeezed my shoulder gently.

My mind chose the very moment to go to war with itself. On the one side all the arguments of how nicely this plan was coming together. I did have any chance to succeed. Really! Whereas the other side concentrated on how certain Thrawn was that he would find another way to return home, one that didn't involve me at all. To which the first side replied: see!

At least I didn't flee this time, but managed an orderly retreat. After some more reading - the darkness was silent and possibly reading minds. It also liked to eat bits of memory. - I grabbed Rukh again for another attempt at socialisation. I did forego the tea, though. It didn't help much.

"You may want to start a journal," Rukh interrupted me in mid-rant. "You need not worry that the Grand Admiral will spy into it. I am sure he knows what you are saying now anyway."

I stared at the Noghri, unease creeping up my back. He was right, of course. But how could I explain to him that sometimes the act of saying something out loud was necessary? It helped sorting out your thoughts if you had to put them into words.

"He turned my life upside down. He controls everything," I picked up my rant again.

"And it bothers you that it doesn't bother you," Rukh simply said.

I looked at him and didn't answer. But he was right and we both knew it. I rubbed my forehead vigorously. "I wish," I just replied. "Don't you? I mean, where you are concerned?"

"You are my only concern," he replied flatly.

"I wish I wasn't." I glanced at the tea, but discarded the idea again. Not enough time. So I would have to make do with words. Good luck to me.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	171. 170

One-Hundred and Seventy

All in all it wasn't too bad. I got back into the daily routine and the only difficult thing was gauging how official any meeting with his Admiralship would be. But that was okay because there were ways to get back to him. I sure was accepting things way too easily. Still, right now was not the time to complain. So I complained on a different level.

"I don't see why it is important," I lowered the pad and looked at Thrawn. "This is all internal core politics, and none seems to touch on the current situations on the borders. Except maybe for Balmorra."

"That is not the point," Thrawn told me. "Of course you can ignore all this and stand with the women, talking about their children, fashion and the holonet. It is quite customary, I hear."

I huffed. "Fat chance. I like neither of that." Oops. It was too late to bite my tongue. "I mean -"

"I know what you mean," he interrupted me. "Which is why I considered you would be off better in the political section of conversations." He nodded at my pad. "You still have two weeks, and updates will be sent automatically."

"I am counting on you to highlight your stance on things," I sighed. "Then I'll at least know in advance where we'll clash in public."

"Oh, you will know that in advance for sure." There was a tight smile on his lips. "You will have a lot of practice conversing on those topics before you can do so in polite society."

"Something to look forward to, I'm sure." I displayed a freakish grin which was completely lost on him. Sometimes I was not sure if I loved or hated that he knew me too well.

Rukh adjusted to having tea and being forced to talk to me by telling stories from Honoghr. I was a little disappointed until I realised in what situations I had been given stories about Khanathitera. I should be happy, things were looking good for me measured like that.

And then Jaing called. Unexpected and a rather nice surprise. Or so I thought. He was without helmet even. That should have been a warning. Rukh slunk out of sight, but I don't think anybody thought he was out of earshot for a second.

"Jaing!" I exclaimed. "How nice of you to call. And all official, too. To what do I owe the honour of this?"

"Business," was his curt answer. Still I smiled.

Jaing looked serious. "The Mand'alor requests an official meeting with a representative of the Empire," he said slowly. "Mainly to talk about Byss, but also more long-term political issues."

"Great!" I managed not to bounce. Much. "Who do you want? I-"

"Mellanna," that scolding sigh again. "He wants you, of course."

"Oh. Ah." I didn't feel like bounce much anymore. "I am a representative of the Empire?"

He gave me a really hard look. Okay, got it. I was a representative. "Do I have to wear a dress?" I didn't quite keep the panic out of my voice.

"I will talk to Shysa about that. I might even convince him that it is prerogative," he chuckled.

"Well, thank you for that. I will make a point of full dress. I like the look of that." I thought for a moment. "How does one go about setting a time and place?"

"You will come to Mandalore," Jaing replied. "Soon, if possible."

"I don't think I have any appointments." Apart from my routine, but that didn't really count. I thought. "Calculating how long the journey'd take me, what about tomorrow? Or the day after if that's too soon."

"That will be acceptable. There is not going to be much procedure anyway."

"I'm glad to hear it. I' will call again once I have my exact ETA. I'll bring Rukh."

"Naturally." He glanced to the side. "The number of companions would be good to know soon, too. Accommodation and such."

"I understand. I will make sure to get their full names."

Something flickered over his face. "I see we understand each other."

"I'm really looking forward to seeing you again."

"You won't," Jaing said. "I will not be there. I am just acting as proxy right now because the Mand'alor is - busy."

"Oh. Okay. It's nice to talk to you anyway. Or was," I added.

He nodded and the screen went blank. "Maybe," I sighed softly. Then I sent Thrawn a comm about me having to go all politician on the Mandos and how advice on the topic would be a good thing and who did I call to have my flight arranged?

As it turned out, Arn was responsible for the latter. He was not fond of my happy-go-lucky approach to this.

"What were you thinking?", he scolded.

"The sooner the better," I replied. "And I didn't intend to take a whole entourage, Arn. There's no need to punish them or me that way."

"The proper representation of the Empire demands a certain amount of procedure," he insisted. "I will have Seros lecture you on that."

It was not an idle threat. It took him only five minutes to change my schedule and dump me on Seros. I was not amused. But neither was Seros, who had quite a lot to say about the proper etiquette of representing the Empire. None of which I seemed capable to reproduce. Then Arn had me again, giving me the details of my trip and I called Jaing, who was not answering and left him a message.

Just as I wanted to have a nice cuppa to compliment myself on the day's achievements when my pad told me that only because I had extra lessons with Seros, didn't mean Dave wouldn't be ordering the shit out of me. Resistance was futile. And I might just have brought this on myself. Bother.

I was to tired to even think about tea when I finally returned to my quarters. Instead I stared at a screen full of Chiss writing for a moment before deciding that looking at the signs wouldn't do anything.

I decided to crawl into bed an so ignore the outside world with the blanket over my head. It actually worked, too. I didn't notice anything until...

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!_

Now that was a bit of a surprise. I turned my head to the side and found the bed beside me empty. Okay. So this was how things worked? Oh well. My schedule told me that I had a normal day right up until lunch after which I would leave for Mandalore. Go, me.

Arn cut the exercises short so Seros could have a long last word with me. I felt less ready than before to go on this trip. But I'd have Rukh with me and then we'd pick up Zeth on the way because it was likely that I would actually work with him as my personal aide.

"Thank you for that." I smiled at my Grand Admiral.

"I prefer my personnel unscathed and your temper tends to be short when in contact with your Mandalorian friend." The scolding tone was not very pronounced, but still detectable. "Do keep in mind that you represent the Empire, Mellanna."

"You know me, " I began.

"Indeed, or would not remind you."

I grinned and felt smug. Because no matter what he might think about this, there was little he could do to change the Mandos' minds. And if he didn't approve of what I did, there was no way he'd let me go. We both knew that. Yeah, smug was just the right reaction. "I shall feel reminded then. And maybe even remember it from time to time."

I tried to retrieve some of the smugness as I boarded the _Liberty_. Seros was too good at letting you know how far the way ahead really was. He was too much like me in that respect. Disagreeable little, critter.

"Shouldn't I get a pilot?", I asked Rukh as we dropped into space.

"Durron is going to fill that position once we picked him up," he replied.

"Oh, good. Does that mean I get to keep him after this trip?"

"Mellanna..."

"Okay, okay. Just wondering. If I am really to travel with a full entourage," I broke off. "I won't, won't I? This is just an exception because it's the Mandos. I really won't get to represent anything, right?"

The silence was answer enough. I stared at the blue pattern flickering over the viewport. I'd never get used to it. Just when I thought I was finding a place to occupy it turned into so much dust.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	172. 171

One-Hundred and Seventy One

Zeth was completely unsurprised and unfazed when we picked him up. "I was told it might come to this the moment I left the _Chimaera_ so I'd be closer to Kyp," he said. "Took you longer than I expected, though."

I didn't comment on that. Wasn't it enough that his Admiralship had very high expectations (not to mention me)? Was everybody going to chime in? I spent a lot of the journey chatting with Zeth, not only about proper procedure and how to treat him, but also getting updated on Kyp.

"I keep feeling as if I'm intruding," I shrugged. "And since I'm not going to be around long anyway -" I let that taper off.

"The less he's attached, huh?"

"The less anybody is attached," I replied. "Only I am not very good at this. I _like_ being attached - selectively."

"And your selection is not making much sense."

I grinned. "Works for me."

Jaing had not gotten back to me, so I assumed that full dress would be acceptable. Not that I looked as dashing as I felt, but I could ignore that. Shysa sure looked all kinds of dashing, his armour buffed up in the ragged way that spoke of unnumbered battles. We chose a more neutral way of shaking hands than I was prone to do with Mandos. But I was representing, so I would behave - as long as I remembered.

I introduced Zeth and Rukh and in return Shysa introduced his two companions, Zorana Skaith and Sleven Ordo. Polite greetings were exchanged and I think Seros would have flinched only a little. But this was not the Core and I had more leeway. The routine was pretty much what Krennel had put up, though. Only less time to relax.

And the room. Gods, what to say about this room, that tiny box of panelled wood, smelling of ages and forests dried in the fires of civilisation, but never quite losing its feral treeness. The wood was dark, the lines almost invisible and the lamps threw heavy shadows on the walls. The closet was tiny, just enough to put all my stuff into which was so little anyway.

Everything spoke of travel, of never staying long enough to accumulate clutter, and the thick carpet promised respite for the length of the stay at least. Heaters, pronounced and big enough to warm towels, naw, your blanket on them for use and a small kettle with cups and a choice of tea. I felt at home immediately, and had I had the time, would have slunk down before the desk, just to feel the carpet with a cup of tea.

But no. Shysa meant business, so business it would be. Listening to Rukh's advice I reduced full dress to representing-but-not-being-posh uniform. Zeth sat on my right with a pad, keeper of records and protocol in one. Rukh stood unobtrusively against the wall behind me. Nobody overlooked him here, though. I smiled, there was a cup of tea in front of me before the initial pleasantries were done.

"You realise that we are already working with the Republic," Shysa said.

"Erm, no." Now that was as good a start as I could have imagined. "I have no clue. Fill me in."

He gave me a disbelieving look, but did as I had asked. That took some time. My tea was empty before he was even half done. The alliance seemed to be not all official, but working.

"Oh, okay," I finally said. "I never bothered to look into how things developed after Mindor. Seems I should have." I flashed him an almost contrite smile. "So this is a rather delicate situation now, right? You actually working with the Republic and suddenly the Empire, too." I had no idea how to resolve this. It probably showed.

"We have quite a tradition fighting the Empire by now," Shysa agreed. "And we will not betray those who fought with us."

I looked into my empty cup, then let it go with a sigh. "I understand, and I approve of your stance, really. The easiest way would be at least ceasefire between the Republic and the Empire. But you know how much influence I have on that."

"Exactly. Which is why you are here."

I disentangled the words in my head in several directions and came up stumped each time. So I decided to take them at face value and run with it. "Okay, what's in it for me?"

"The Empire-"

No," I interrupted him. "I know what's in it for the Empire. And it's wonderful and all I could ever ask for. But what's in it for me?"

Silence fell. I turned to Zeth. "You might not want to chronicle this," I stage whispered at him.

He grinned, nodded and made a show of idling. Thrawn would hear of this anyway, but the rest of the galaxy didn't have to. Not unless I decided it should.

"What do you want?" Shysa chose the Mando way of communication.

Unfortunately, because I had not really thought this through. "Well," I hedged. It would have been convenient to have some more death sentences at hand. Mandos were good with that. "You could keep an eye out for somebody called Vergere with a little shoot-on-sight on your mind. And Maybe Jusik could keep an eye on the Solo kids because I fear for their - abilities."

"That is for you?" Shysa gave me a calculating look.

"Well." I really needed to get rid of that word again. "There is nothing much I want for myself. And I cannot think of any way you can help me with any of it."

"Try us." His confidence was impressive.

"Okay. I want to take time off, but I don't even know what to do with it. I want to meet everybody's expectations, but can't even meet my own. I want to be happy, but I think I forgot how to. Also, tea. I think you could really be a big help with that."

Shysa didn't take his eyes off me. Still a fresh cup of tea arrived a little later. The silence became thicker and I wondered if it was possible that the tea got stuck in it when I tried to drink it.

"Got all that," he suddenly said. "Now, back to the Empire, us and the Republic."

It was certainly the easier topic. And we were getting places. The Mandos would not sever their ties, and once that was a given, all we had to do was find a way to build some kind of relationship around that. Without freaking the Alliance out.

"Organa Solo will probably not mind," I sighed, "but the rest of them? Tell them you meet with us regularly and they'll be like headless chicken; frightened headless chicken."

"You suggest not telling them then?"

"Hell, no! They'd take it even worse. But then again they can't just sit in on all negotiations." I rubbed my forehead. "Though I do think keeping up those three-way meetings even after Byss would be a very good idea."

"So we exclude the smugglers." Shysa was having much too much fun winding me up. But it got the thinking everything through, so all was good. Apart from my mood, and who'd ever considered that?

"They don't really have a government, do they? Karrde is running his group, but he has no sway over the rest. And They are not really forming an alliance now after all. Or maybe they will, when they see the Alliance and Empire team up. I think I am getting a headache here."

"We shall resume this talks tomorrow, then." Shysa got up. "You gave us a lot to think about, Ms. Morrison."

I managed a smile. "You, too, Shysa. You're really good with this."

"It's my job." He indicated a bow and was gone.

I sat staring at the table top for a while trying to sort my thoughts. "What is is we actually got out of this, Zeth?" I finally asked him.

"Enough. I will give you the gist of it when you are fit again." He laughed softly. "You are one rambling woman, Mellanna. I am amazed Shysa was able to follow you half the time."

"Really?" I shook my head and slowly stood up. "To me it felt more like the other way round. Keeping up with him is like sprinting after a bullet."

"It's called politics," Zeth informed me as we left. "I heard that this is actually what it's all about."

"Oh dear." It was out before I could stop my mouth. "What have I gotten myself into."

"I will tell you, in great detail."

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	173. 172

One-Hundred and Seventy Two

As expected things did not get better. At least I had Shysa convinced that the Empire did not demand he sever ties to the Republic at all. That was a step in the right direction. Now all we had to do was build an acceptable system of allegiances. Because he could hardy help the Republic against us, or the Empire against the Republic if he was in negotiations with both.

"You could hire out to both sides, that should work."

"And double the income?"

"As well as the causalities, I guess." I sighed. "So no. But the idea is sound. Things go both ways."

"And a little more in the direction of the Republic."

"We'll have to live with that. As long as you'll be neutral mostly. I am sure we can compensate." I couldn't help grinning. Thrawn could probably compensate for most things that were not everybody ganging up on him and a killer bodyguard.

"So much confidence," Shysa sounded amused.

But that was okay. I didn't have to get all the details. I had Zeth. And whatever training he had gotten since we dropped him off, it had sure not been standard military stuff. He was a genius at picking up details. I blamed latent Force powers, not enough to make him a Jedi, but too much to make him normal. Oh yes, the Grand Admiral was a sneaky bastard.

But, as usual, he had it right. And with the plans and ideas Zeth had put together, things were going nicely. Unfortunately, a lot of it depended on my as liaison, but that couldn't be helped right now. They'd find somebody else when I was gone.

"I think we can just leave it at this," I said at the end of the third day. My head had stopped spinning and was actually doing politics. Contracts had been worded and conditions lined up. All that was needed now was his Admiralship's approval. And of course the Republic not freaking out. It had been a bit of a pain to word things in a way that sounded harmless.

And before I knew, I was off again, without seeing any of my fave Mandos at all. It was rather disappointing. Only that I had no reason to be disappointed because hammering out some kind of deal with the Mandalorians had been paramount and achieved.

"It's okay I still don't like it, right?" We had been poring over the paragraphs for a while.

"Of course," Zeth replied. "And I think we will be returning soon for amends. I already marked the passages Thrawn will want to change."

I managed not to stare. Mostly because something pulled us from hyperspace prematurely. That Zeth didn't rush to the cockpit in a panic should have given me clues, but since I was off already I considered I might just as well continue. At least comms would be easier from there. If that would be necessary. A Star Destroyer hung in space before us, and though our sublight engines were dutifully off-line we moved towards at a neat vector.

"If I guessed that we had not really been back on course to the _Chimaera_," I asked Zeth as he slipped into the co-pilot's chair, "how correct would I be?"

"On a scale of one to ten?" He reached out to override my controls. "You really don't wanna know."

"And here I was thinking that _I_ was supposed to be the deviant one." I leant back and tried to order my thoughts and get my spiel for Terrik together.

"You were very busy negotiating the shit out of Shysa," he grinned not apologetically at all. "And whyever you chose your friends the way you do, you sure pick those that can trace and hack."

"Maybe those are prerogatives," I sighed. "Because nobody else can sensibly stay in contact with me."

The bulk of the _Errant Venture_ closed around us. I calculated the approximate time until we could disembark and decided to change. It was not enough time for full dress, but I made it as posh as I could. Representing, even when you shouldn't.

Zeth raised a brow at my get-up and shook his head slightly. "You're gonna get us killed one of these days, Ms. Morrison."

"Another day then." I grinned and strutted down the ramp.

Booster Terrik was already waiting in the hangar surrounded by a group of his people. "Ms. Morrison, I presume." He nodded at me. "And your aide, Mr. Durron."

"Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Terrik," I replied. "I hope you can forgive me for not being able to tell all your associates by name?"

"The way I like it." He gestured to the men and women around him. "My associates, as you so aptly put it. If you would kindly follow us."

"Naturally." I spread ease and a good-natured smile over myself.

"No, not him," he pointed at Rukh. "He has to stay."

I turned to look at the Noghri, then back at Terrik. "He's my bodyguard," I replied. "I am going nowhere without him."

"Then you stay where you are as well." He crossed his arms before his chest.

"Okay." I felt like throwing my arms up and demanding what this kind of stupid was, but I was representing. So I would mind my manners. "Just give us a sec here to carry a table and some chairs out. I am sure we can arrange them half on the ramp, half on the ship. Should make everybody happy." Maniac grins were new in my repertoire, but I was using them freely.

The smuggler shook his head. "My ship, my rules."

Exasperation was not an adequate public reaction. "Well, same goes for my ship." I had reached the end of the ramp. "So it's kinda like an embassy, you know, other countries territory on your territory."

"You can try to enforce that," he challenged.

"No, I cannot." More maniac grins seemed to be in order. "Looking at the balance of power here, there is absolutely nothing I can do. But I heard all about the importance of keeping your face and such."

"You are doing a lousy job of it, Ms. Morrison."

"I would claim that you caught me unawares, but then you might be prone not to underestimate me next time around."

"If there is a next time." He gestured towards a door at the back of the hangar.

"I am afraid I really cannot go anywhere without Rukh," I insisted with a smile and stubbornly kept my feet on the ramp of the _Liberty_.

"Are you fearing fro your life?" Now this was surely the most politically difficult question he could have chosen. I was not surprised.

"No, I am not," I objected with a little laughter. "And I could ask, why you are so afraid of him. Only," I shrugged, "we both know why."

"I have been trying to hire some. They are - difficult to get by."

"Very loyal. I think they will stay with the Skywalkers and Solos for a while now."

"Except for yours."

I had to look at my feet for a moment. When I returned my eyes to Terrik, the smile was back in place. "I do not own him, Terrik. I-"

He raised his hands staving off my words. "Whatever. I won't have him on my ship, not even shackled."

I nodded, unable to shake the smile. "Under those circumstances, I am sorry to have taken up so much of your time, Mr. Terrik. We will be leaving now."

"Oh, really?" There was more than an edge to his words.

"Really." I indicated a bow and slowly walked up the ramp again. At the top I turned around to find Terrik staring at me, his face unreadable.

"You cannot go anywhere."

"No, but I can sit in the _Liberty_ and wait," I replied. "And call for help."

"You can do that?"

"Oh, you better believe that I can call on somebody no matter where I am." I smiled broadly. "I would not feel safe otherwise."

"You would not _be_ safe, otherwise."

"No, I would not," I admitted.

"I might like you, Ms. Morrison."

I let my body relax visibly. "In which case it would of course be an inexcusable lack of good manners to refuse an invitation to tea uttered so charmingly." I nodded at Zeth who had a few words with Rukh before following me down onto the floor of the hangar. "Now," I started brightly, "I think I have a Star Destroyer to inspect."

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	174. 173

One-Hundred and Seventy Three

The tour took ages. Star Destroyers are huge anyway, but we were looking at everything that didn't work. And that was almost everything, plus all those explanations.

"So what you are saying that only ten of about fifty turbolaser towers are working."

"We have ten showing up as active for incoming," Booster explained. "Just looks better."

I nodded. That was the legally allowed number, alright. " Think we will need a more accurate number for the refitting," I said slowly.

"Oh, it will be ten, don't worry." Terrik grinned and led on. He was probably going to stash everything not quite legal away when, and if, we took temporary command of his ship. I didn't blame him.

At least comms was working, rackety and shaky especially in the further expanses of the unused kind, but it worked. If you used a handheld. I made dutiful notes. I made a lot of them. From a military point of view, this ship was a wreck. Apart from a few indispensable systems everything was patched up in a rough-and-ready way. Things worked, but you better had duct tape ready, and McGiver.

Not to mention there was half a bazaar built into most of the functioning parts of the _Errant Venture_. I got the feeling that I had not thought this through. Terrik agreed with me which didn't help much.

"That's how she looks right now," he told me not quite able to hide his pride, or just not willing to.

"I will pass it on to the Grand Admiral," I replied with a smile. "I'm sure he'll find a sensible solution for this mess."

"Mess?"

"Indeed. I don't think he wants to leave you with a fully functional Star Destroyer. I also think you could not keep it that way."

"I think, I like the direction you are thinking in, Ms. Morrison."

"Good. Because I was thinking that I really hope you want to show me a fully functional canteen at the end of the tour now."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I like food?"

He looked ready to facepalm but didn't. "I had thought you would want to be on your way again as soon as possible."

"I have always time for something to eat and a nice cuppa," I objected. "And I get to eat out so rarely. I mean, the Empire is still very human centric. How am I ever to find out about alien cuisine?"

"You don't want to," Terrik said gravely. "Trust me."

"Okay, for now," I sighed. "But I can't believe it's all bad."

"Not all, but you won't have the time to find out which is which. Because I am not going to tell you." He smirked happily.

I glanced at Zeth, but he shook his head. So no break for foreign food. This was not the holiday I had booked. "I thank you for your time, then," I said.

"And I hope to hear from you." The smile seemed genuine enough. But why shouldn't it, when a full overhaul of his ship might be in it for him.

"I am sure you'll be in contact." The wording of that didn't escape him. Not that it mattered.

The list of repairs was long. I had already marked minor things that were cosmetic rather than important. I got the feeling they were there pretty much as bargaining chips. For a moment I wondered how everybody would react, if I agreed to all of those and instead didn't have the air exhaust lines repaired.

We'd go boom, but pretty. I let Zeth take helm and went to look for Rukh instead. The Noghri was sitting in the galley. Not being an expert on reading his expressions I wavered between sad and thoughtful. Or it might have been the Noghri poker-face, provided they even needed one.

"So," I sat down at the small table. "Who has been visiting you?"

"A representative of my people," Rukh growled.

"But, but that is good, isn't it?" I asked.

"My name is not a dishonour to my people," he replied gravelly.

"Well, it better not," I agreed. "Or I'd have to pay them a visit and give them a piece of my mind."

"What for?"

"You're a hero," I explained. "You would have done in the Grand Admiral if it had not been for me and my stupid knowing-the-future mojo."

"But now I have failed."

"But it wasn't your fault," I insisted.

"How can it be not my fault, when it was my job and I failed at carrying it out successfully?"

I took a moment to think up a clever retort. I could think of none. "Well, I don't blame you." If that helped any. The way the universe stood right now, there was not that much I could justifiably refuse the blame of. Maybe this would have been the right moment to develop delusions of grandeur. Unfortunately, Zeth thought that the time was better spent on summarising the results of the tour.

"Do I even want to know what it's going to cost?" I wondered out loud. There was a three dimensional model of the _Errant Venture _hanging between us. Most of it was bathed in the red light announcing necessary repairs.

"I am sure the Grand Admiral is just going to dock it from your pay." Zeth grinned.

"Never gonna pay that debt off," I sighed. "But then I probably won't even notice those extra credits piled on all the cost I caused so far."

"How's the assets looking?"

"I don't have the slightest." I finished the report and hit the send button. Maybe his Admiralship would have calmed down after reading it by the time we arrived. "Who's next? Clandestine meeting with Karrde or something?"

"Nothing that I know of." Zeth winked. "I can only arrange so much."

"In which case I think, I'll have a look at the news now. And maybe brush up on some conversational brushfires until we get home." Not to mention that my Chiss reading had fallen horribly behind.

"Don't you ever relax?" Zeth asked.

"Oh, trust me, this _is_ relaxing." I called up the Imperial news site. "I don't get much more relaxed than this. It's a hobby, you know. Reading stuff, memorising things. Very relaxing. You should try it sometime. With tea." I added after a pause.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	175. 174

One-Hundred and Seventy Four

If the amount of work that had to be done on the _Errant Venture_ had caused any kind of reaction in Thrawn, he never let it on. It wasn't mentioned in the debriefing, and it was not mentioned at dinner. Or after. Actually, a lot of talk was about Gargon. Unfortunately that hadn't featured much in any newsfeed. I was rather disappointed with the holonet.

All in all the men in my life were too busy chivvying me through all kinds of procedure and protocol. Seros stuffing my head with polite conversation, correct gestures and polite amends for social gaffes while Dave made sure I would not ruin the whole Byss operation by forgetting and mixing up orders, not to mention being precise in times of crisis. I still preferred to panic, after all it was a crisis. And then there was Arn, getting me in touch with the workings of battle communications and coordination on a Star Destroyer. All those departments had to work as a unit after all.

Thrawn was dividing his time between teaching me Chiss language, Chiss culture and _Gasha. _None of which went too well. Language best of all, because I liked languages, even if they were a pain in the ass like Cheunh, but also because all conversation was in Cheunh. I was getting especially good a cursing. I had a lot of reason to. This was often the fault of Gasha. That stupid game. We were still using only five layers, Thrawn had stooped to giving me pawns I could recognise from the side and I was still losing. In a few moves, should he feel so inclined. In half an hour if he was in a lecturing mood. I was not sure which was more annoying.

I managed to align three teal pawns only to have Thrawn incapacitate the topmost by sandwiching it between two burgundy pieces. This meant I could not, as planned, remove the yellow pawn from the board that kept messing with my green pieces.

"You need a more comprehensive approach," Thrawn said, plucking my last bronze pawn off the board. "You have to keep the connections between the colours in mind. Without the Csapla pieces, the Sabosen lose their power over Nuruodo."

I felt the urgent need to set fire to a few Ruling Houses. "But Tiar still can combine with Inrokini," I replied. "And then -"

"I will have taken down Sabosen pieces before you have aligned them halfway into a strategy that could endanger even one of my burgundy pawn."

I put my chin in my hand and sighed, looking over the game. Of course I had so lost again already, but I would be damned, if I ever gave up. It was the _one_ thing I could do. I ran a hand over my eye and reached out to pick up an ultramarine coloured Inrokini pawn. It would take two moves to put it into place and by then, Thrawn would have taken another of my burgundy pawns, leaving me with three.

"You should make the pawns out of chocolate," I suggested, placing the one I held on the board. "And I can eat them, if I can capture them. Now that would be motivation."

"Thinking with your stomach will not help you with Gasha, Mellanna." Thrawn didn't even need to use a chiding tone, he just removed another of my pawns. Within a handful of moves it was all over.

"Have you decided on your art, already?" he asked as I sorted the pieces for a new game.

"Art?" I looked at him. "Like one of the twelve arts, art?" It was much easier to look at the coloured chips in my hands. And biting my lip. Things were always better when biting my lip. Kept me from blabbering. "Is it really necessary? I am just a foreigner." That had been the wrong thing to say of course. I knew it as soon as it was out of my mouth. "Sorry."

An immaculate brow rose.

Oh bother. "_Here'a_tae'_irig'or'katey'eonof'foronekinatan." _That should be doing the trick. Not that I had any house colour you could actually break and thus shame.

Thrawn nodded. "So?"

"Well," I hedged, playing with my pawns. "I can't act and I can't sing, not to mention dance. And I have no idea at all how to compose." I chewed on my lip. There were three arts with words, but I had decided that writing would be too close to home. I couldn't imagine putting a pen to paper again and write poetry. I'd probably just break apart in an ugly way.

"I think it would be too much to try and learn an instrument, and landscapes are pretty but a little too big for me. So that leaves," I double checked in my head, " painting, sculpting or reciting. Maybe I better scrap reciting," I mused. "My reading skills are not up to it."

He did not reply, just watched me going through the elimination process.

"Guess, I'll be painting then. I dabbled in that and it will work." I ignored Freud's leering face rising up behind me. Sometimes, when you thought things through rationally, the results were plain ugly. And anyway, what was there his Admiralship did not know about be right now, like for real? I was as save with this choice as with any, only I did have some chances of actually pulling it off.

"Interesting," he placed his first pawn; a Mitth one almost in the centre of the second layer. It was a classic opening and at least I knew the reply to that.

"Why?" My burgundy piece mirrored the position of his on layer lower.

"I would have expected you to return to words." A yellow pawn took up wing position to his first.

"I considered it," I agreed, putting a green one above my Mitth pawn on the first layer. "But it's still too close to home. I don't think I can."

The turn of his head expressed all the doubt in the galaxy on my opinion. I decided to ignore that. "A pity."

I felt like biting through one of my chips, a burgundy one. "Yeah, I was quite good," I admitted. Then I forced myself to look at him. "But I feel vulnerable enough as things are, thank you very much."

"You should be using it like a weapon, Mellanna," that slightly exasperated tone again, telling me I should really deign to see the obvious.

I smiled. "No." I shook my head, putting down another pawn. "No, I do not. And I would not, so I will not." I reached for my glass and found it empty. "It's not how I want to work. And now I will get something to drink."

The carafe was not alone in the cooler. I picked up the second bottle that looked like champagne, or the Star Wars equivalent of it. Despite being rather tempted, I did not shake it heartily. Instead I turned it over and tried to make sense of the label. After failing quietly for a while, I just put it back.

"There is champagne in the cooler," I announced when I returned to the game.

"Indeed."

Yep, this was the bastard of a Grand Admiral I liked. I did not whack him over the head with the water lovingly. "May I enquire as to why?"

"Of course."

I busied the carafe with pouring myself a glass of water before checking on Thrawn's glass. Almost the height of offensive hosting. I smiled. "Why is there champagne in the cooler, Thrawn?"

"You are on board of the _Chimaera_ for a year now. Though you obviously are oblivious to this fact." As you are to too many others. He didn't add that. He didn't have to.

"Oh." I stared at him, then at my water, the Gasha board and my glass again. One year. I hadn't even noticed. I mean, really? It couldn't have been that long. How long had the campaign been? It was only a year utmost, the Wook said it all happened in 9ABY.

So, less than a year and then running around the galaxy like a headless chick. How long had I been doing that? Where had I been? What had happened? Disra, and Jusik, Jaing, too and Deerian. But that had been only a few weeks, right? Also, no C'baoth had been within the campaign time. But- what was I missing here? Apart from being watched rather intently by glowing red eyes.

Kyp? That had been afterwards, also, no that had been Deerian's inauguration. My head was a mess. There was no timeline at all. I should start my painting career drawing one. "Oh."

"And that is a reason to celebrate?" I asked.

"You tell me." He placed the last of his chips on the board leaving mine pretty much tied up as usual. At least I had a burgundy and teal line I could use to back up my Sabosen.

I stared at the board intently, trying to find an answer. And a good move to start my oncoming defeat with. "I guess," I finally said without looking up.

"Guessing would at least explain why you refrained from bringing the bottle with you." Thrawn dropped a yellow pawn from the first to the third layer, trapping two of my bronze ones. Then he got up. "Amends will be made."

"But I'm impossible when I'm tipsy," I protested.

"You certainly are impossible when drunk," he agreed.

I blushed ferociously at the thought that he'd know all about that night out. I got up to thrown some repartee at him. But nothing scalding, or at least witty, came to my mind.

"I can put your mind at ease, Mellanna," he continued, his eyes flashing brightly, "because Cherez has been promoted and is now secondary gunnery officer on board of the _Admonitor_."

I drew myself up to full height which was unfortunately not much higher and less than imposing. "Grand Admiral Thrawn!" I levelled an accusing finger at him. "Do you have to know each detail of my life?"

"I do indeed."

There was no answer to that. Or at least none that I could think of.

And this is the reason I obediently got tipsy and then didn't update here.


	176. 175

One-Hundred and Seventy Five

_I run through the corridors of the Chimaera trying to outrun him. But he is fast, catching up, waving the schematics and shouting at me in his accent. Then Scotty has almost caught up, whacking me over the head with the plans. They show a weird Star Destroyer/Enterprise hybrid. It is not making sense. Scotty agrees. He whacks me again._

_So I turn around and take the pad. It crumbles in my fingers, trickling to the ground. I fall on my knees, trying to scoop it up, but my hands just can't get a hold of the fine dust. It scatters more and more between the blades of grass, mingling with the soil. I start digging._

_His hand descends on my shoulder, shaking me._

"You do have to get up."

I turned around and opened an eye tentatively. It was definitely not Scotty, the glowing red eyes gave that away. I considered making an undignified noise and since my inner filters were not up an running yet, actually made it.

"You do have to get up," Thrawn repeated.

I made a valiant effort of sitting up. I missed the wake-up call. I wondered what his Admiralship would have to say about having it installed. Though, from the glaring lack of it, I could probably deduce his stance on it. Bother.

"Time?" That was surprisingly coherent of me.

"Half past six. You will be late."

I nodded. My head did not feel like falling off. Actually, I didn't feel any after-effects of the champagne. Either half a bottle was not enough to cause any adverse effects, or the champagne here was made of different stuff than back home. Not that I would complain about the lack of headache.

"We could time it that you're already gone when my usual wake-up call goes off?" I would always find something to complain about. Even if it would be my undoing.

"No."

I was left alone with that. Fighting the temptation to just fall back again and see if anything happened, I got up. Wahey, another wonderful day in my life. Couldn't be much worse with Scotty beating the crap out of me with schematics. Why had I not done the befitting thing and dreamt of Spock? Or maybe I had, but he had wandered off bored and played three-dimensional chess with Thrawn. I wondered who'd win.

I wandered off to the sonic and then breakfast in the officers' mess. Eating in private with Thrawn was all very nice, but taxing in a way I just couldn't stand early in the morning. At least, I was up and not running into things. That was better than anything I had managed back home at half past six a.m. .I read a summary of my news while I sipped on my konot tea. I was actually getting somewhere using the holonet.

And from what was on there, a lot of things were on fire right now and nobody bothered to mention Byss at all. That was most likely a good sign. Nobody mentioned Gargon much either, which was bad. I had to rely on Thrawn for information and he was not the most trustworthy of all sources. God forgive me, but where information was concerned, I didn't trust him further than - well probably not even that far.

I texted Karrde. Because the things that were not out there in the news seemed more important somehow. Because if there was anything of importance right now it was Byss, and that was nowhere to be found. I was also sceptic about Gargon being just a convenient topic to practice my conversational skills upon.

"No!" Seros was adamant. "You cannot greet the Baron like this. He rules one of the most important territories in the Outer Rim."

I stared at my fingers that, as far as I knew, expressed the correct amount of respect for Baron D'Asta's station.

"He is an ill man," Seros elaborated.

Tilting my head I tried to remember procedure for that. Polite, not obvious, respectful, where were my fingers, what did my head do and why did my feet hurt? Oh, high heels, I had almost forgotten about those. I wanted my boots back. Nice, comfy combat boots. Only, the moment I did, Dave would be breathing down my neck in an unpleasant way.

I return to my starting position. It was really not all easy, but the suggestion to just hug everybody in greeting had sent Seros into an half-hour fit. It was useful to remember. Not that it had helped the overall situation.

"Baron D'Asta," I approached Seros again. This time I made sure to support his hand with mine. The balance between support and clutching was vital. Seros had me repeat it a few more times. There was fortunately no wife to complicate things even more. After managing this, I was set up with several Earls, Counts and Dukes as well as a string of Princes. Princes were easy, at leas until they turned 45. But I was assured that this didn't happen often as most Imperial princes liked to be kings sooner rather than alter and parents either were abdicated and alive or, well not. Abdicated persons were no problem at all. They did not attend any events because their successors were doing that.

"It does not work like this ion Csilla," Thrawn explained. "There is no haste to inherit the offices of your elders, it does not get easier or more prestigious."

I strolled along between paintings from Csilla. Since I would have to pick up a brush sooner or later the focus on Chiss art had deepened. I was not all happy about it, they seemed to like abstract art too much, relying on the viewer to add the culturally important frame to add meaning., I had not cultural frame to add, so most of this was more learning by heart.

"Are you expected to follow the footsteps of -" I hesitated. Your parents was the logical conclusion to this, but which parents would that be? I was still a little unsure about the unspoken dos and don'ts of temporary adoption, adoption and getting trialborn. "Do the exchanges in the families help that?" I ended instead.

"It does." Thrawn walked around one of the holograms that looked like a burgundy dream tree on golden ground. "A Ruling Family can chose its successors. It ensures that there will be one even if the own offspring is incapable or reluctant to fill in important roles. It also encourages competition."

I mulled over the trickles of red branches seeping down the fake painting. "You were heading for admiral, at least, and then -" I trailed off. "You were not really released, were you? But how would the Nuruodo rematch you? And why would you even, especially to the House of Mitth?"

Thrawn did not reply immediately. "You did read my CV," he finally said.

"Yes." I didn't really want to think about it. Not to mention I never really could bring myself to read the details about the whole fiancée business. "It was connected to Nuruodo'kar'anasi." I tried to say that name as if it belonged into my life. There was no answer. This would not go well. I should just drop it. I really, really, - "She must have been incredible."

"She was," he simply said.

I did have to say that, didn't I? Next time, I'd have to keep my mouth shut when I decided to drop a subject. Very, very shut, biting on the lips from the inside until they bled if necessary. "Naturally." Oh yes, this was me doing a really good job of shutting up.

One of his brows rose, but I was deep in enough already and didn't intend to answer. "Explain."

Or maybe I didn't really get the choice. I looked for a dignified way out of this, but didn't see any. So I started walking away from him. "I just thought she'd have to be an amazing woman, because she was able to impress you and - more. I believe that to be -" no extenuations, I told myself as I hid as well as I could behind the low Gasha table - "damned darn impossible."

Thrawn was silent for a while. "She was the most intelligent woman I ever met." He sounded wistful.

I slumped. Really, note to self: keep your friggin mouth shut!

"We knew each other for a long time, before decided to make the relationship formal." I had asked, so I did have to live with the answer. And the fact that Thrawn was slowly walking towards me as he talked. "She aspired to be Aristocra for the Nuruodo House and everybody was certain she would make a tremendous asset to the House once she was trail-born into it. Of course that placed her in an inconvenient position to myself, but we were sure to work that out as well. Awkward is not the same as forbidden."

A thought rose from the depths of my mind. "And then the Mitth House made an offer."

Thrawn nodded. "They did. As they also operate in the filed of military, space and protection of Csilla, they naturally had their eyes open for promising additions to their house. Since I had already been adopted to the Second House, a descent to the Eighth House had been most unlikely. The whole process took years until even a procedure was decided upon. That again was to take another few years due to the terms and conditions that had to be observed by all involved parties. The only of those that might mean anything to you was that I keep my former House's name and the standing relation ship with Nuruodo'kar'anasi.

"You were almost there," I whispered almost to myself. "And then you got exiled."

He didn't answer. He didn't have to.

"Well, I guess I should be grateful for the impossibility to impress you and all the complications,"I tried to change the direction of the conversation somehow. "I honestly have no idea how I would have dealt with a former wife, or children, or both."

"Do you think I would have attempted this under those circumstances?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "Would you?"

For a moment he considered. "I don't know."

I was about to try another probably stupid change of subject when he continued. "The children would be grown up by now, most likely having their own families. And the former wife would also have moved on."

I managed to almost suppress the snort.

"You disagree?"The tone of polite interest didn't help any.

That was an even deeper hole to dig myself than any change of subject would have done. But

it was too late now. "I wouldn't," I just said. "I mean in case that, if I had managed, I mean if you -" yeah, definitely going good there. "I don't think I could move on," I ended lamely.

"Indeed."

It might have been easier to bear if my cheeks had not been burning so hot. I felt the urge to put my suddenly cold fingers against them and force my body to disperse the temperature more evenly.

"Whatever." My hands made a desperate lunge for the Gasha pieces. "Fancy another game?"

He sat down in deliberate silence and I very, very carefully arranged my pawns.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	177. 176

One-Hundred and Seventy Six

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!_

Well, what? I blinked stupidly. This hadn't happened in quit a while. The last thing I remembered - oh, alright. The awkward evening of awkwardness. No wonder I had fled. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Since when was waking up in my _own_ bunk surprising? I decided not to think about that.

Instead I wondered... "Do you really think that private breakfasts like this are ever going to happen to me?" I watch Seros over an assortment of food that had looked better without the prospect of procedure attached to it. "It's not as if there's parties where you get too drunk to punk and have to stay for the next day. Or is there?" Horrible images formed in my head.

"It is customary to invite select guests to stay in the house," Seros replied. "It is an honour and also a statement. A long-standing tradition, so you are better acquainted with it." He indicated the table. "This is a standard set up for the breakfast. Do repeat the indications, Mellanna."

So I did because not only was it telling if you were invited to stay the night, the items you found on the table the next morning were also very telling. Not to mention the room you had been give, if and what kind of trinkets there had been left for you and who else was staying. According to Seros, it was quite possible to thoroughly scandalise and insult somebody by inviting them for an overnight.

So I made sure that I would notice if that happened and knew how to react. This meant that first, though I had to know how things like this were done. And they could be done in very different ways. "I will accept caf, but ask for mocca if I want to imply that the night was less than restful," I reiterated. Tea was not playing a role in the societal play. Nobody could say the Imperials were not civilised.

Seros poured the caf and I explained my choice of food. I also wondered if this was now worse than having to converse with his Admiralship in the morning and if so, if it was on purpose. And if yo, which purpose that might be. I was not getting much better with reading Thrawn. Agreeable as he tended to be lately, he was still not making much sense. If you thought about it with second, third and fourth thoughts.

At least he was being kind, I told myself. that was making everything much easier. If not better. well, no, no better. The only thing that would actually make things better was -

"Mellanna!" Seros' was undeniably annoyed. "Do pay attention. This is _not_ a game."

"Sorry, sir." I glanced around for a clue for what he had been talking about. of course I found none. "I was momentarily distracted because the flowers on your dishes seem to be just the same as are embroidered on the doilies in my room."

Seros nodded. "Good, that would do. I just hope you have knowledge enough about the indigenous flora of the planet you are on to traverse on the subject."

"I am afraid not," I had to admit. I will work on more feasible excuses. And I apologise. What were you saying?"

I was getting better at this because he didn't scold any more but got right back to the explanations.

After working out with Arn, the Grand Admiral had been cancelled from my schedule. "Where did he go to?"

"Gargon." Arn was accompanying me to lunch.

I approved of that, not only on the grounds that it meant food before manners. All this polite eating was getting to me. Or not. I had the distinct feeling I was not eating enough. "Why?"

"Just another crisis," Arn laughed. "There's enough of those lately, to keep anybody running."

"Why didn't he use the Chimaera?" I wondered.

"He had to be faster than us," Arn explained. "a lot faster, actually, but there's only so much space travel allows for."

"Faster than a Star Destroyer?"

"I does happen," Arn replied. "The _Chimaera_ has a Class 2 hyperdrive which is pretty good. The Grand Admiral's personal yacht is equipped with a Class 1 drive by default."

"And I would guess that it is not so very default anymore now."

"Quite right, too." Arn was still grinning. Also it's not always the best idea to crash into a delicate political situation with a Star Destroyer. It might unsettle some people."

Well, there was that. "So what do we do now?"

"Nothing." He shrugged. "Or almost nothing. You will be visiting Sartinaynian in the Braxant Sector."

Satiwhat? Why couldn't I pay a visit to Deerian instead? I shook my head slowly. "I am not sure I like all this travelling. It seems to be intruding on my exercises."

"You can't exercise forever, Mellanna," Arn chided. "You really do have to start working at some point.

And here I had been thinking I would be doing - what exactly? I didn't really know. Nothing of the lessons I was having led to much anything. Except Seros' lesson in conduct and demeanour which led directly down the road I was facing with Satiwhat. Oh great.

"Right, and this is where I am headed." I curled my hands around the almost empty cup. So I would be a representative. I'd better be a good one, too. "So, tell me about Satinyan, or whatever that was."

"Sartinaynian," he repeated slowly. "You need to pay better attention to details like this."

"Don't I know that," I murmured.

"Then act like it." Arn sighed. "It is not a big deal. Sartinaynian is an Imperial world in the Braxant Sector."

Now that piqued my interest. "Never heard of it before."

"I am surprised," Arn disapproved. "There has been a movement supporting it as the new capital of the Empire."

"Could it handle the influx of bureaucrats?"

"It is the capital of the Braxant Sector," Arn replied as if he had told me that a lot of times before. "

"It's still in the Outer Rim, though, isn't it?" I tried to remember all the maps I had seen lately. Unfortunately those all concentrated on the Deep Core with a splatter of Farlax Sector and loads of Byss close-ups.

"It is at the end of the Braxant Run," Arn conceded. "But not being at the crossroads for two space runs can be an advantage."

"Not to mention we don't _have_ any planets at any crossroads."

"There is Garqi," Arn objected.

"An agriworld?" I managed to feel as if I raised a brow. "I did do some of my homework, you know?"

"That is good to hear, but it seems you did not get to the interesting parts. Gargon is only one of our more pressing problems right now. The Empire needs a capital."

I nodded, though I hadn't really thought of it before. To me, this was one galaxy and thus needed only one capital and that would always be Coruscant. Only the Republic owned that one right now. What had been the capital of the Empire after Endor anyway? "What about Bastion?"

"Bastion." It was half a question.

"Yes, the secret capital the Republic didn't find until, oh, ten years from now or so. Must have been very secret if you never heard of it."

"You are referring to the plans of setting up a mobile capital?" He almost chuckled. "That plan has been on and about for a while now, but the Moffs could never really decided on a place to start. All the rivalries." He winked. "It might have happened soon, though, if the Grand Admiral had not returned. And to Ord Cantrell, too."

"Which doesn't have a passing space lane at all. Okay, point taken," I said. "So what is on Sartinaynian that is so interesting. Apart from the possibility of a future capital."

"Apart from that?" Arn tilted his head. "Only the usual, people, people, people."

I had the feeling that this visit would not be pleasant at all. I did not like people. But it could not be helped.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	178. 177

**Author's Note:** Back from yet another pause. This time writing my Bachelor thesis. Back at uni and with some luck on schedule. Never quite sure about that. This story isn't my fave right now. Sorry.

* * *

One-Hundred and Seventy Seven

All in all it wasn't too bad. I got to travel with Zeth and Rukh again and would be wearing full dress instead of silly dresses. Maybe I would get used to representing after all.

"What _are_ you even wearing, my dear?" Krennel on the other hand did not approve the least. "It is no wonder that your activities are of little effect, if the Grand Admiral refuses to use your full scope of appeal."

Hiding a mad giggle behind a consequently bouncing smile, I blushed appropriately. "I think he is trying to put the focus on my abilities."

"Ah, but they fall short of your beauty so badly."

It was difficult not to wince at this compliment, especially if you had a realistic assessment of my beauty. I had to glance away and shake my head a little. But when I returned to face Krennel, the blushing smile was back with double force. With half of space between us, I would have to be careful not to get carried away. After all I would meet him again and then I'd probably have to make good an all the promises I made now.

"So what about your boss," I clumsily changed the topic.

"She is fine," he assured me. "Looking forward to meeting your boss. And we both now where that will lead."

I allowed myself a real smile. "Yes, we do. And aren't we looking forward to the cooperation."

"Even more so as it means I will get to see you more often."

"Agreed, you owe me a trip to your palace." Adding a wink was daring, but I couldn't help myself. The leer lighting up his face was reward and threat in one for that effort. "If the accommodation you have shown me so far-"

"It surely is not," Krennel interrupted me unable to resist the chance to boast. It did take him some time, too, and by the descriptions, his home was an awfully overloaded place stuffed with status symbols that were neither beautiful nor understood. Still I showed approval and anticipation. It wasn't as if I was not keen on seeing all the planets I could get.

"You make it sound like paradise."

"It will surely be heavenly once you set foot onto it." Oh, he was piling it on thick.

"It is unfortunate, that our next meeting will not have time enough to spare for a side trip." I sighed.

"If our plans work out well, it may be possible to schedule the following meeting on Ciutric IV," he offered. "After all it is in everybody's best interest when our superiors work together."

"Indeed, and it would be such a great sign of trust and support. Who would invite his foes to spy on his home?" Apart from the tactic being as old as the Nibelungen or even the ancient dinosaurs. I had pasta mixed up with it, but that was probably Pratchett's fault.

"I see, we are thinking alike." It was probably meant as a compliment. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine, fine, I'm fine." I almost stumbled over the words but that was as yet a bit too difficult an effect to produce. "He's gone right now, too. Having a break, you might say, I do. I mean, really." I clamped my mouth shut, stared at the ground for a few seconds before glancing up with an apologetic smile on my face.

"I will not burden you with the details. It, it - feels wrong." Oh indeed it did. My private life, as private as it was or not, was mine. That was between his Admiralship and me, and all the awkwardness would just have to stay awkward between us. And sandwiched between - less awkward times. Oh dear, I was blushing for real. Poor Krennel. "I really rather not think about it even," I admitted rather truthfully.

"Don't worry, Mellanna," his tone was sympathetic. "It will all be fine. I promise."

I swear, that was the only thing I ever wanted to hear from any guy in this galaxy again. "Thank you." It was rather difficult to get out between biting the inside of my closed lips. My face was doing all kinds of expressions, but I didn't see a reason to stop it. The more truth I'd manage to pack under the lies, the better.

His blue eyes did their best to exude comfort and I did my best to believe them. Everything would be okay. Everything would be fine.

Until then, I had more Imperials to appease. And I would do so - in ex-Moff Disra's very own palace. Now that was awkward. We landed on a private platform of a structure big enough to pass for a mountain. Unfortunately, it was not as pretty. Sometimes I wondered why the Imperials had such horrible taste in architecture. Had they squandered it all on uniforms and ships?

The Liberty vanished into some kind of subterranean garage and the three of us were given quarters on one of the middle floors. I could see, why we would be staying here. Despite being quite a notorious place, it was also undergoing reconstruction.

"Am I here to see this?" I asked Zeth rather pointedly. "Because I could have brought a hammer and joined the mayhem, you know."

"As if anybody in his right mind would let you wield a hammer near anything made out of ivrooy coral," Zeth retorted. "Though I do have to admit that even you with a hammer could only improve on some of Dirsa's disputably tasteful furnishings."

"Thanks." I looked around. "So who will be moving in now? And on what occasion am I doomed to meet him?"

"The new Moff of the Braxant Sector, of course. We are not quite finished with positioning the right man in the way of the voting, but Grand Admiral Thrawn takes that it will be a matter of weeks now."

"So this is getting renovated before he arrives? Cheeky, isn't it? What if he's not-" I bit my tongue. "What _am_ I even saying, right? Because of course it'll be your man."

"Well observed. But as any good politician, he will leave a position to be filled carefully. This is another of the items."

"And I am to do the check on his moral compass?" I glared at Zeth, though it was not his fault.

"Something like that. Oh, come on." He clapped my back so hard I stumbled. "You do have a reputation of being such an upstanding do-gooder that even the Rebels would agree with your judgements. We'd be fools not to utilise that."

"Apart from the fact that I trust Thrawn, you mean to say."

"That's okay." He grinned. "Everybody has their flaws."

I was about to ram my elbow into his ribs when a very prim young officer turned into the corridor. By his reaction, he had been looking for us. So this would be where people stuff started. I did a once-over of my canvas, adjusting to polite Imperial mode.

"Liaison Morrison." He snapped to attention. "We are so sorry to have kept you wandering through this building lot unattended. The senator apologises and hopes you will forgive him. If you would follow me. He has refreshments set up in the hanging garden. One of the few places not affected by the construction. Again, our apologies."

I was a little overwhelmed by this gush of apologetic invitation, so I just nodded and tried to look generally forgiving."It is fine," I assured him. "I like getting a look at the works I can gauge the progress."

Despite my friendly smile he seemed worried. "We will finish in time, Liaison. The schedule is tight, but once the replastering is done the panels will be up within the week. The carpets and furniture have already arrived and only need to be placed."

"Where is the old furniture now?"

"Do you want to see it?" He sounded even more worried. "We have stored it away for the moment. It is as yet undecided if it will be distributed among the other Moffs, who are especially interested in the antique coral monstrosities," he glanced at me as if that slip would bring wrath upon him.

I just smiled and nodded him on. "But there has been talk about divesting it, so we are careful. Still waiting for last orders. If you want to have a look at it..."

"Oh no, thank you," I waved the offer aside. "It's fine." He relaxed visibly. "I shall send my aide to do that. I wouldn't want to bother with it personally."

Zeth looked at me incredulous and the worry returned to the face of our escort. "As you wish, as you wish." He nodded. "I will have transport arranged immediately."

"That would be very kind of you." I meant it, but considering the current set up, it might have come across rather differently Oh politics. You never knew what you got.

"And how do you think I will leave you alone with Senator Sarreti?" Zeth whispered into my ear.

"Disgruntled," I murmured back. "But nevertheless."

"You are quik to learn how to abuse your power."

"I am sure meant to." I flashed him a quick grin. "And really, what could anybody be afraid of? It's just me."

He might have mumbled 'exactly' there but I could not be sure because were ushered into the gardens just then.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	179. 178

**Author's Note**: I fiddled with Sarreti's age. I felt that was okay, because this is going all AU now anyway. Just saying, in case anybody notices and wonders. ^.^'

* * *

One-Hundred and Seventy Eight Seven

Senator Sarreti was not what I had expected in many ways. Firstly he didn't seem to be much older than me. If he'd hit the forty already I would have been very surprised. He was not only polite but friendly. An impression that stayed even after the initial pleasantries were done with and had actually been pleasant for a change.

The hanging garden opened into a sky of very light blue, Ravelin invisible behind curtains of trailing plants and trees. We were served juice and fruit on skewers. I was not quite sure waht this all going to end up meaning.

"Your reputation precedes you," Sarreti said, sipping his juice. "From what I have heard, I would have expected you to be," he looked me over again, "taller."

I held his glance for a second before dropping it with a smile. "And I expected you to be older."

"We are all allowed our little preconceptions," he smiled back. "They keep life interesting."

As if I had the need for any kind of more interesting in my life right now. I didn't show that, of course. "So are you overseeing the reconstructions or simply the only one who didn't flee the noise and dirt?" I asked instead.

"Both." He picked up some fruit and indicated the surroundings. "We are preparing Sartinaynian to be the capital of the Empire for now."

"For now?" I tried to raise a brow. "Until Coruscant can be reclaimed?"

"Possibly." Sarreti didn't show any kind of reaction. Instead he nibbled on the fruit. "In which case the Republic will be in need of a planet able to function as a capital. Either way it will pay off."

Somehow I doubted that anybody in the Republic - I had noticed how in my vicinity 'rebels' was not a word used anymore, I approved - I just didn't think they'd want to rent anything from the Empire, much less a capital. Been there, done that, almost had the twins abducted. "You'd take their dignity and their money?"

"With pleasure." He was watching me closely. Checking my signals I made sure none of my thoughts showed. This was politics. I'd just say one thing and thing whatever I liked. Sarreti took another sip before putting his glass down. "Let me show you the work that is already finished and you will tell me what you think."

I nodded amiably, putting down my glass as well. Securing a last skewer with fruit for the walk I followed him towards the doors. Before we reached them, they opened and we lost Zeth to a very nervous looking Imperial.

"Checking on everything are you?" Sarreti didn't seem offended, rather amused.

"He was so nervous about it. I didn't want to disappoint him." I shook my head slightly. The new palace was actually pretty. Obvious and overwhelmingly Imperial aesthetics had been replaced by not-so-overwhelming imagery of grand freedom and honour. Or something. Representative architecture in the GFFA tended to be impossibly and impracticably huge.

That did make sense on Coruscant where it was saying quite a lot, if you had space to waste. But here on Sartinaynian this was not the case. Maybe not yet. "Personally, I miss the Imperial impact in this gigantomania."

"That you should miss it proves that we have accomplished our goal. Unfortunately, building this big is an integral part of political architecture. Breaking with it now would send the wrong signal."

"Agreed. And soon the infighting is going to be a bigger problem than the Republic anyway."

He stopped, turning towards me. "Soon?"

Well. Um. There was still a lot of fighting going on between the Empire and the Republic. Mostly local skirmishes in which one party decided to call on one of the powers in this galaxy. And the other side consequently called on the other force. This would have to be regulated somehow, but it was my main focus right now. "You disagree?"

"Oh." He picked up walking again. "I was just wondering why you would prioritise like this."

"Why wouldn't I?" Now this would be a very complicated conversation. And things had started out so nice.

"It is a rather military approach, is it not? Fight enemies first, govern later?"

"Would you rather the military try to govern?" I wanted to know. "It has been done before, though I am not advocating it."

"Is that so." Sarreti managed to convey a world of doubt in those few words.

For a moment I wondered what he was going on about. Did he know about the Byss operation? Was Palps a part of the Empire? I rejected the idea immediately. He was supposed to be dead. Getting rid of him again was not infighting. It simply was not. Even if his people were more likely than not wearing the same uniforms, using the same commands - oh bother.

Maybe this was infighting. Maybe I was just as bad as any internal police had ever been. Maybe I was evil.

Well.

So what? Palps was worse. This was a slippery slope. I was doomed. Sarreti was smiling. But in the end that didn't change a thing. Palps had to go. And I had to find out who was in the know about this. I smiled, too.

"Yes, it is." I let my fingers run over a dusty tarpaulin. "Except if you have something to share which would change my view?"

For a broken second his smile froze. "I like your style, Liaison." Was his evading reply. Before I could wonder what style that was he went on. "At least you openly hand us the shovel with which we dig our own graves."

"I am not intending to bury anybody," I replied. "It tends to be an awful waste."

"Everybody knows you are willing to make exceptions.

This time I stopped and turned to face him. "I do not like," I paused, "_my_ Empire to be endangered. I feel very strongly about it. And it may be unfortunate, that I do not embrace some of the more elitist aspects of it."

Sarreti waited for a moment, expecting me to finish the train of thought, but I didn't. Instead I resumed the tour. In return he resumed my education about the new capital, senate and system of election in the Empire. Especially the latter was a worse rag rug than election systems in the States. I didn't even try to understand all of it.

Finally we returned to the hanging garden. I began to make short work of the remaining nibbles. When Zeth returned, not quite able to hide a smirk, Sarreti excused himself with duties. Zeth generously helped with the fruit, while recounting an amusing trip to the storage and taking inventory of desks that were stacked so sloppily, he would have thought they had been returned rather hastily, if he didn't know better.

Now this was unexpected. Though Zeth didn't think so. Maybe I was also doing audits since I was already on my way? "I am not a one woman army," I huffed. "I don't even know what I am doing. Or you."

"Oh, I do know what I am doing, Liaison. That's the reason I am here. So as you are done with hobnobbing for now, why don't we get to the bit where you are a people person and shake hands with the common man?"

Oh bother. I had thought Sarreti had been the people part. He certainly was exhausting enough to talk to. Seems that had only been warming up. Grumbling I followed Zeth.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	180. 179

One-Hundred and Seventy Nine

Being a people person wasn't so bad. You shook a lot of hands and talked to a deluge of people. But you didn't have to remember their names or faces. It was enough to be interested and ask question about their opinions, hopes and fears for the future of Sartinaynian and the Empire. Then you listened carefully, agreed to take things into consideration and not forget the worries of the common man.

It was really not that difficult. Only smiling started to hurt after a while. I was very happy when dinner didn't warrant me to smile at all because senator Sarreti assured me he would not take it personal. His smile was still very much in place, shiny and new, as if just invented. I hated him.

Not that he cared. But then he was a trained politician and I was just one because his Admiralship had decreed it. Oh fuck, who was I fooling? This was who I was going to be. I put on a smile again, even though it hurt, shaking my head about myself.

In the end I wasn't quite sure what I was doing on Sartinaynian. It was probably a campaign to get my face out and the policies about. If the reaction I had seen were any indicator, it even worked.

"Naturally," Zeth told me. "The common man finally feels he can connect to the leadership whereas the common dignitary feels sorry for your naivete."

"Oh, good." There was nothing to say really.

And though it didn't seem to be all too difficult, all the running around, shaking hands and being friendly (also never saying the first thing that came to mind, nor the second, maybe the third, but usually the fourth was good to go) was tiring. Especially for days in a row. I was actually glad when it was over. And dead. So dead, dead,dead. I was almost ready to have the smile surgically attached to my face.

I dropped into my bunk on the Liberty the first chance I got and was accordingly unhappy when Zeth woke me to answer a call from Karrde. I mumbled into my blanket and only when the call was put through deigned to unearth my face from under it.

Karrde was unimpressed. But what had I been expecting? He wanted to trade information I didn't have for information I surely wanted. Things didn't go too well. "You are a failure as a spy, Ms. Morrison," he informed me.

"Indeed. I'd also blame it on the responsible authority being well aware of what I am doping behind his back and using the lack of information as a simple precaution." I was sure that all Thrawn told me was intel Karrde and the Mandos were allowed to have.

"Your lack of ambition is deplorable."

Not him, too. "I know. But let's not forget we are talking about weaselling information out of Grand Admiral Thrawn here," I reminded him. "I'm up against great odds."

"You are said to be in a unique position to obtain them." The amount of wink, wink, nudge, nudge in this sentence was amazing.

"I can assure you that no position you can possibly conceive would help any." It really shouldn't surprise me Karrde was insinuating things. Information was his business and he was incredible at it.

"And this is the man you want to leave in charge of the galaxy?"

"Why not?"

"Because in that position somebody with a conscience or a heart might be better?"

"Looking for human traits in an alien?" I kept my face carefully neutral. "Once I find irrefutable proof one way or another, you'll be the first to know."

"I get the feeling that this is a message I will be waiting for for a very long time."

"Probably forever." I allowed myself a smile. "So, is there anything else worth to keep me from sleep?"

"Ysanne Isard." He was dead serious again.

"Oh. Well. I didn't intend to let her rob me of my rest."

"I am not sure you understand the severity of the situation. She is not alone."

"Of course not." There was a long pause in which my mind started oscillating between going right back to sleep and frantically working out what Karrde was trying to tell me without saying a word. Not alone? It would have been quite a feat for me to forget about Krennel. So this was probably not it. Who else was there?

"Reports about her location are inconsistent."

"Well, I guess she is travelling around a lot." Trying hard to hide her visits to Palps more likely than not. The things we didn't say.

"I see."

"I don't, but that's okay." I had given all my information, even the broken titbits, to Thrawn and was counting on him to work it all out. And he would. Anyway, what was the worst that could happen? My mind wandered to Palps. Oh. Okay. "Or, okay. Won't overlook that anymore."

"I thought so. You are also said to have a slight weakness in that respect."

You could call Dave a weakness, if you wanted. I wouldn't. I was about to point out the strength this might actually be when he politely disconnected. Bother. Whatever. Sweet dreams to me, if I still managed this under those circumstances. I would sure try my best.

And, indeed, I did not have nightmares because of this. Which was rather inconvenient because it would have explained my horrible bitch mood perfectly that appeared when I returned to the Chimaera only to find his Admiralship still wayward. Not that this was that kind of relationship anyway.

I mean, really. Had he been around there would not have been a friendly chat, there would have been a debriefing. And Thrawn would have grilled me about details I had dismissed as unimportant and consequently forgotten. It would not be fun. It would not be supportively cushioned stuff that relationships tended to have. So. There. Anyway.

I had nobody to dump my bitch mode on either. Seros would have stuck me in an endless loop of the most boring etiquette he could think of. He was very good in that respect and I doubted had an equal where boring was concerned. Dave just simulated the deaths of several thousand stormtrooper for each snarky, unproductive remark and Arn beat me into a pulp. Metaphorically speaking and only after harassing me with the shooting lounge until I was up to the expected levels of two weeks ago.

At least I was tired in the end. Still grumbling I went to bed – his of course, fully intending to lie around there as an undeniable reproach. It worked. For the whole of ten minutes. Then I was fast asleep.

Something jolted me out of my dreams. And in the dim light of the room something was different. The light, for one thing, which I was pretty sure I had turned off. Carefully, I peered over the blanket to find a half-dressed Grand Admiral sitting on the foot of the bed. Well. That was an exaggeration. He slumped. I blinked repeatedly, but no, the image didn't change. If any exhausted guy had ever sat on the foot of a bed, he was one. His shoulders were so low that his back formed a curve, his head invisible from my low vantage point. He might even be cradling it in his hands. Oh my.

I didn't dare think it. Didn't want to think nit. So I closed my eyes again and tried to ban the image from my memory. When I looked again, nothing had changed at all. He was breathing slowly so at least he wasn't dead. Oh. Great. It was worse than a train wreck. I just couldn't look away from the blue back slumping before my eyes. World's end. Apocalypse. Only worse.

I was the back, the shoulders. Must have been. There was no other explanation. Not that Thrawn reacted in any visible way when I slowly peeled myself out of the blanket. My approach was more hesitant than stealthy either, because I didn't know what I was doing and if I did, I didn't believe it.

I wondered how he managed to tense when I laid a hand on his shoulder. His muscles were hard as rock. It was impossible to dig my fingers into the skin at all. That didn't stop me, it shouldn't have anyway. And I knew what I was doing. Slowly I worked my way up his tensed up back and shoulders. When my thumbs reached the hairline at his neck, he let out a long breath.

Well. Now. This was unexpected. And possibly awkward. At least I had something to keep my hands busy. Better them than my head. What had he been doing? Oh wait, not thinking. Gargon. That was what Arn had said, wasn't it? I might just as well give up on not thinking. Stupid brain. So. Gargon, I guess. That pimple on the back of the galaxy which had decided to be a troublemaker and tip the scales in any one direction by possibly changing the tables by purely political means.

My fingers started to tire. How did you end something like this? I didn't know. Usually the guy in question fell inappropriately asleep and I could scold them loudly. Well, I couldn't keep this up forever. My thumbs hurt. I didn't even know if it was having any effect. I stared at the blue before me. And then I just put my hands on his shoulders. And stopped. And leant forwards. And placed a kiss on the nape of his neck.

Oh well. He was my Grand Admiral after all.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	181. 180

One-Hundred and Eighty

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!_

_Say what? The bed next to me is empty. Well, what did I expect? This isn't that kind of relationship after all. I get up, but maybe it was a mistake to venture to the bridge stark naked. I don't even have a pad to cover anything. And his Admiralship isn't here. Great. Anyway. I guess I am too clever to go to the bridge naked. Meaning this is a dream. _

_Good. Because the crewers in the pits are turning into zombie-shark thingies with lots of teeth and yukky bits. I better wake up. At least I have a weapon now. Oh look, it's a pool noodle. Very helpful that, yes. Thank you. Where is that wake up call when you need it?_

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!_

_Ah, there it is. Now this is much better. The bed beside me is still empty. Oh well. Maybe I'll just stay in bed. That way I should be completely safe of walking to the bridge in my birthday suit. But I'd need to go to the fresher. Oh well._

_So how did I end up on the bridge again? I mean, I do know the way to the fresher. But here I am, not dressed again, on the bridge again. Probably not quite awake again. The crewers don't look happy. One of them seems to be blushing violently. Poor pup. Thrawn is around this time. He does not look amused, but at least the shark-zombie crewers stay normal._

_Still. I should be waking up. Thrawn gets up. Waking up now, really, before something unacceptable happens. Even if it's just-_

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!

_Move it!_

_Oh wow. I really have to get up for real now. This is getting ridiculous. How many times do I have to wake up fake before I am really awake? This is so tedious. Though nothing new. I turn over and stare at the empty bed. I am awake now, right? I feel awake. Not that this means anything. Maybe I should get up._

_Or not. What happens if I don't? Wouldn't somebody come for me? Though – here? I turn again. Who knows. I don't. So getting up. Where re my legs. I know they're around here somewhere._

The fall was rather short. Oh hi floor. I was tangled up badly in the sheet and it took a while to get my arms and legs free. There was also an amount of very real pain in my face and shoulder. Good. Kinda. There was never any pain in my dreams. Hello reality.

I looked around. As expected the bed was empty. For a fleeting moment I considered a re-enactment of my dream, but decided against it. Instead I untangled myself stumbled from the fresher to breakfast where I peered into my tea. But I was definitely awake now. The fact that I was fully dressed was a good indicator for that. But I was still in full bitch mode. Stupid Grand Admiral. I would have mumbled to myself, but the tea would have dripped out of my mouth and that would have been an unforgivable waste of perfectly fine tea.

Sports didn't cheer me up. Etiquette didn't cheer me up. Dave didn't cheer me up, because, really, how can meticulously planning the deaths of several thousand people cheer anybody up? Good decisions meant only – only! - a few hundreds more would live. Hallelujah! Very cheery indeed.

His Admiralship deigned to stoop to a debriefing in the afternoon. All things – and special circumstances - considered it was a _very_ formal and very brief affair. The grilling wasn't as bad as expected. Thrawn seemed to be in a great hurry. He also looked as tense as fuck again already. Whatever he was on about. The last night stood between us like a happy, multicoloured elephant. I didn't know how to breach the topic and his Admiralship obviously had better things to do. How was he still able to make me so horribly uncomfortable?

I was almost gone again when he addressed the subject with the one question I had kept asking myself over and over.

"Why?"

Oh the answers I didn't have for this. "Because ..." wasn't quite enough, "... you needed it."

And that was that. There was no in-depth investigation or even Chiss subtleties to read. Thrawn was a careful blank, an expression he might as well have invented. I wondered if anybody in Csilla ever managed to read anything from him in this state. Maybe I should ask around, should I remember. For now I resigned myself to emulating him and not grumbling out loud. Seros was not pleased by my efforts, though he could not quite put his finger on what it was that was annoying him. It was not as much fun as expected.

Running around and shooting people didn't alleviate my bitch mood any either. Maybe somebody should write an essay on that and hand it to prospective amok runners. Though, if you killed yourself afterwards the problem was neatly solved still. Arn commended me on my scores. That didn't help ether. SO in the end I decided to get some probably painful close combat training with anybody of the 501st I could get my hands on. And knew the name off.

Naturally, only Lyk was in the gym, when I arrived. He acknowledged me with his infamous wolf-smile. "No luck in finding you training toy this time around?"

"There's you." I looked him over. That didn't go down well with him, but then it wasn't meant to.

"You wish. We're not your personal squad." That sneer had a life of its own and was enjoying itself almost too much.

"That," I couldn't help grinning mischievously, "can be arranged."

"You wouldn't dare."

"You wouldn't be able to stop me." I shrugged. "But you could just comply now, give me what I want and escape that fate worse than death."

From Lyk's reaction my expression looked as smug as I felt. His sudden attempt to wipe it off my face with a fist was as unexpected as it was welcome. More so since I was mostly able to deflect it and get away with only minor pain.

"Well, that wasn't too difficult now, was it?" I grinned like a maniac. That obviously didn't warrant an answer. But for the following time Lyk took great interest in teaching me the finer points of not getting hit repeatedly. I was pretty good at it, too. Not good enough to avoid everything, but that was kinda the point of this.

When I returned to my quartet, my mood had lightened perceptibly. I had another shower, checked on the next day's schedule, which threatened to darken my mood again, but I wouldn't let that happen. I could still complain to his Admiralship. I was good at complaining.

But when I opened the panel to the other suite, only darkness greeted me and a Grand Admiral that was fast asleep. Now this was great. I grumbled, weighing my options. I could return to my bunk and grumble until I fell asleep. I could crawl into bed next to that sleeping idiot and grumble until I fell asleep or he woke up.

I could keep standing in the doorway weighing my options until I fell asleep standing. Still grumbling. Well, he was my Grand Admiral. And I wouldn't have him forever. Not that long actually. But the problem was, that even if I went ahead and snuggle up to him, I couldn't imagine hard enough to make it alright. Make believe wouldn't get me through this. I let my forehead bounce of the door frame. Then I just laid down on my bunk and tried to sleep. Stupid, stupid Grand Admiral.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	182. 181

**Author's Note:**

_Dear readers,_

_ You might have noticed the rather long pause in updates. (Or not, I am never quite sure what you notice or not.) Anyway, the reason for this pause is that TRIDU is not that close to my heart any longer as a story. Though I do wish to finish it some day, that day might be mightily delayed because of reasons. Most of them being that my motivation is differently occupied._

_ I've never been one to write for comments. Looking at TRIDU and doing the maths, that's clear because if I had, I had not been working on it for years, maybe not even for one year. You see where this is going._

_ If you want the updates to be regular as can be, please leave a comment. To know that there is somebody out there actually reading and paying attention makes it very difficult for me to ignore my inner publisher. I have been communicating with some of you very closely for a while and it has worked wonders for that nagging voice telling me to get my sorry butt up and do something._

_ My wish to finish the story will get the job done one day (I guess). Guilting me into updating by paying attention will get the job done a lot faster._

_ Just saying._

_ ~MsLanna_

* * *

One-Hundred and Eighty One

_Get your sorry ass out of bed and do something for the Empire!_

_Go, go, go! This is not a pleasure cruise!_

_Move it!_

.

Well now, this was the real thing. I got up and halfway to the fresher when Rukh intercepted me with a cup of tea and packed bags.

"A change of plans," he growled. "We leave in half an hour."

Oh how I loved my life. If the news hadn't shocked me awake, the tea sure would have. I'd have to keep Rukh away from the kettle in the future or I might die of predictable palpitations. I managed to sonic and cancel all my appointments in time to not arrive in the hangar half-dressed and running. This was all the better since I did not arrive at the _Liberty_.

So this was Thrawn's private ship. It looked a bit as if somebody had stepped on an armoured egg and just left it flattened. Add a cockpit that reminded of the _Millennium Falcon_ and you had it. Pretty was a different thing altogether. I got ushered up the ramp anyway and was not really surprised to find a familiar double ring of displays occupying a big part of what had probably been a luxurious lounge. It was probably even less surprising to find Thrawn in the middle of it engrossed in his work already. More surprising were the figures of Arn and Zeth flanking him. So this would be a regular family trip.

Before I could make an appropriately snarky remark, a squad of stormtroopers marched up the ramp in step, passed behind me and vanished through the door to my right. That seemed to have been the secret signal, because the pilot started up the ship as the ramp closed. While I was still standing around like a little girl lost, Rukh vanished through the last door on that side, leaving only the middle one unused. Logic and common sense dictated that this was the master bedroom. But would I be on board long enough to unpack?

When I approached the small group, I only got far enough to realise they were discussing Byss. Thrawn dispatched Zeth with a nod of his head and my personal interceptor intercepted me and redirected me to a corner full of chairs and sofas. The one furthest from the displays. Well.

"I'll be brief." He smiled.

I didn't, but followed obediently enough. I also managed not to drop my bag in the middle of the room in a gesture of annoyance.

"We will arrive at Ciutric IV in about a day," Zeth went on. "Ysanne Isard is currently visiting and we have to take this opportunity." He glanced to Thrawn and Arn.

Great, the Grand Admiral and the Prince-Admiral ready to face off. I would have paid money to see this.

"You will have to distract Krennel, so the Grand Admiral can take care of anything concerning Isard."

"Okay."

Zeth waited for more of a reaction, but I didn't feel like adding one.

After a moment he shrugged and returned to the ring of displays. Now this had really been a short briefing. Deciding not to take offence yet, I just took my bag and vanished through the middle door.

It turned out that I got to stay long enough to unpack. If that was a good or bad thing, I could not quite figure out. Or maybe just didn't want to. Because, whatever the reasons, Thrawn had stopped being nice to me. If nice was the right word. He was not made for nice and the word bounced off him anyway.

But no matter what, and I couldn't claim I knew how he'd done it, in the past few, or more days, I couldn't even put my finger on that – anyhow, I had always know he was paying attention. Now he didn't. And I had no idea why. So I spent most of the trip chewing on my lip diligently, wondering. I was also becoming more and more annoyed. Even if it was a ploy to do just this and have me nicely prepped to meet Krennel – could he not at least tell me? Obviously not.

Formal, that was the word I was looking for. Thrawn was behaving very formal and I had forgotten how that felt. And now I was only noticing because he'd been, well, non-formal for a while. And I couldn't put my finger on when that had happened. Or why I had deigned not to notice it. Well, I was noticing now and did not bother to hide all the signs telling that it bothered me. Not that it made any difference.

By the time we arrived I knew nothing more than before. I'd distract the Prince-Admiral, Thrawn would talk to Isard, in the process I might get accidentally laid by Krennel. It was the last bit that bothered me most. There was no way in hell I could keep the rabid Prince-Admiral at bay if Thrawn was officially out of the picture.

Not that I had to worry about that immediately. When we set down at the private port of Krennel's residence in Daplona, Thrawn was very much at my side. I had by now gotten used to the huge and mostly useless amount of procedure involved in greeting important people in an official frame. I didn't think I'd ever grow fond of it though.

Still, the ceremony was a lot less time consuming here than what I would have to prepare for in Chiss space. Provided I ever warranted any official procedure, being a lowly outlander and piece of foreign scum that was.

At least I got to walk beside my Grand Admiral whereas Krennel was situated a tell-tale halfstep behind the woman I took to be Ysanne Isard. She was tall, slender and the red of her uniform shone in the slightly strange light of Ciutric IV. One of her eyes matched the red colour of the cloth and made her look a bit like a Terminator. Combine that with Krennel's biometric hand and you were almost at Schwarzenegger.

I smiled. I let the smile linger on the Prince-Admiral a little longer than proper. Fortunately he caught on upon it or I would have stood the smiling at him for quite a while. Isard was rather busy studying Thrawn who did not seem to take note of much that was going on.

When we marched towards the enormous palace Krennel called his humble homestead I had to realise another drawback of being caught up in what once was an imaginary world: everybody was tall. Even Isard was a good 20 cm taller than me. If anybody had tried to take a picture it would have ended up with three faces and the top of my hair.

Since it seemed to be bad manners to assault guests with work on their first day of a visit we had taken the precaution to arrive in time for dinner. I was getting the hang of this. The room, or rather suite, I was to share with Thrawn had two rooms for various bodyguards. Rukh and the stromtroopers moved in, though I don't know how four men- nope. Not going there.

Instead I went to the bathroom which was almost a suite unto itself. Not that I would get around to using it much. It was always the same. Where did you request shore-leave anyway?

The oval table where the dinner took place indicated that some of the equals among us were a little more equal than others. I didn't care and managed to throw meaningful glances at Krennel when he thought nobody was watching. I wondered how he ever managed to work with Isard who had her eyes everywhere and sure knew that something was going on.

The next two days were pretty much like this. I tried to get Krennel away from Isard who got all suspicious and kept him close. Krennel whispered at me, assuring me how much he shared my wish to get away from our respective superiors and we smiled secret little smiles under the watchful eyes of aforementioned superiors.

If Thrawn was miffed by my lack of success getting Krennel out of the way he didn't show. So all I got around to was assuring Krennel that we were indeed still on the same page and would get my Admiralship and his Iron Lady written out as soon as possible so we could head towards the happy ever after. Still I was very relieved about my general failure.

The third day was getting old already when Thrawn told me in polite but determined words to get lost until dinner. A nod from Isard allowed Krennel the same freedom and we said our goodbyes and left. I was uneasy. I let it show.

Krennel came almost immediately to the rescue. "I will show you the gardens," he said. "I wanted to do that from day one, but business first, as they say."

Smiling I pulled back my hand just before taking his and nodded. "That would be wonderful. I didn't even get a good look at them when we landed."

"You will love them." His gaze flickered from the hand I hadn't dared take to my face and back. "In the middle of the rose labyrinth there is a bower beside a pond. I can have refreshments brought there."

"I don't think that will be necessary." I was doomed. But still I managed to follow my script. I just wondered how far. "I'd rather be – alone with you." The hesitation had been real. I did not want to be doomed.

A not very subtly covetous smile was my reply to that. "I am sure I will find a way to entertain you."

"I was depending on that."

The rose labyrinth was an absolute beauty. Despite my pretended hurry to get my hands onto Krennel in a lonely place I could not help but adore it. The Prince-Admiral made up for my former hesitation taking my hand and using it mostly to drag me along. The smell was overpowering and I was sure that in case of actual romantic interest or even just desire this was a perfect place to get some illicit action.

Bother. Yes, it had been so much fun to lead Krennel a happy little dance. I had not thought I'd ever live to see it come to test. So I did my best to prepare myself though I hoped that my personal Admiralship would intervene before anything happened. When I saw the bower beside the pond I began to hope very, very fervently.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	183. 182

**Author's Note:**

Wow. Considering the usual amount of comments this gets - I really didn't think anything would happen. This was - surprising. I mean, there's over 50 chapter without a single reply. (Maybe I should just cut them as they're obviously not important to the story. Oi, I'm getting evil ideas. I better stop now and update.) Sry. ^.^'

Thank you.

* * *

One-Hundred And Eighty Two

I held up quite well for a while. After all this was all new and exciting and why hurry the pleasure if you could draw it out like chewing gum. I felt about as sticky as one, too. It wasn't that he wasn't well-built or anything. His mechanical hand tickled and was a little weird. I could develop a kink for that, but not quite on this guy. Not now anyway.

I sighed and laid my head on his shoulder my arms wrapped around him. The quiet would not last but any moment I was not occupied running my hands over him was a moment well spent. But there was only so much pining and looking out of the window one could credibly do.

So there was nothing to do really when tickling metal crept up my neck slowly turning my head upwards. I didn't think I ever before felt as trapped just before kissing somebody in my whole life. Still I held on to his shoulders, hoping he'd interpret my breathless reluctance in all the wrong ways so it looked right.

Still it was more than awkward. I was concentrating on kissing as if this was my heart's desire while hoping he wouldn't notice I was just doing my best not to be found out. If his Admiralship had had the sense to find me then, I would have been rather grateful.

The seconds grated on and it became increasingly more difficult to ignore the insistent pressure even though his lips were rather soft and, well, he didn't taste all bad and was I supposed to use tongue now or wait until, now this question answered itself. The mechanic hand closed around my neck like a clamp. There was no way out. This would not end well.

Suddenly the door opened. Not with a dramatic bang but a soft hissing sound like a surprised snake. I did not know how to react when it revealed a Grand Admiral with a stony expression. So I just held on to the Prince-Admiral who tried his best to push me away. I wasn't quite sure if I was breathing.

Thrawn approached a tad too slow for it to seem normal and dropped a hand on my shoulder. My hands let go of Krennel as if on cue, but I didn't take my eyes of him. I was pleading but realised when I saw his face that the best I could hope for was silence. A hope in vain.

"I don't know what came over her." His surprised indignation was rather convincing. "Suddenly she threw herself at me. You see how I tried to fight her off."

Thrawn didn't answer. He simply looked at the Prince-Admiral for a few more seconds before turning his attention to me. "I need a word with my fiancée."

I looked at my feet. I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or embarrassed and both at the same time didn't work out at all. Instead of some mechanic fingers, Thrawn's hand was now holding on to my shoulder like a clamp. He turned me towards the door and steered me away.

I looked at Krennel over my shoulder and he gave a reassuring smile which was mostly for his own good. The traitor trying to pick up the pieces before I decided it wasn't worth it. I smiled back faintly before the door hissed shut again.

I hadn't expected Thrawn to keep his grip on me until we reached our quarter but he did. By the time we arrived it actually hurt. As soon as the doors closed he let go of me and I started rubbing my shoulder.

The doors opened again and Rukh entered followed by a stormtrooper who turned out to be Fi. Thrawn nodded at them and went to the other room as Rukh took up positions by the doors.

"So," Fi offered me some schematics, "this is the plan."

I found myself looking at what seemed to be the chart of a body with bruises placed all over it. Oh. Well. I got the idea behind it but still was no happier with the idea.

"Ouch?"

"Not quite," Fi replied. "We'll apply some bruises where they can be shown easily and won't bother with the rest." He produced a small item that looked like a ballpen with a glowing end. "Then I'll hook you up with some buzzers under your skin that will remind you of where the bruises are supposed to be. It won't hurt. Much."

This sounded a little better than having bruises applied to my body by hand. But only a little. "I can't wait," I ground out.

"It's really nothing," he assured me. "Here." With that he took my hand, pushed up the sleeve and ran the ballpenthing around my wrist. It tingled. "You should have a nice visible bruise in a few hours looking as if somebody held that wrist very tightly for some time." He smiled.

"Okay." I sighed. "Where else?"

In the end I got a nice pattern on places easily revealed. And then I got to strip down to my underwear and have dermaplants put in strategic positions all over me. They were wired to buzz me when the skin was touched there giving me a weak electric shock so I'd remember to flinch and such. It worked very well, too.

Fi was still smiling happily when he was finished. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

It sure beat getting beat up, I guessed. I wanted to rub my buzzing arm, but decided against it because that would only lead to more tingling. "The plan sucks. Just saying."

"At least I can now leave you alone with the Prince-Admiral."

I whirled around which didn't go down well with the dermaplants. I hadn't even noticed Thrawn approaching. "Yeah, I'll be hopping mad and slapping him silly. I get it."

He raised a brow.

"Sorry. All this electrocution is making me bitchy." I sighed.

"Good."

I didn't dare ask if that was for the apology or being so aversely affected by the dermaplants. Knowing Thrawn probably both. Blue-skinned son of a bitch.

It also got worse at dinner. Fi had wired my jaw up so well that I could talk but chewing was a different story altogether. I moped, stared mournfully at my food and hated Fi with a passion. When I found Krennel looking at me I gave him a small smile, found myself facing a stern Thrawn and pulled myself together accordingly. It was a long, sad dinner.

It was also a long sad night. I could not sleep because no matter what I did, I always ended up lying on one of the dermaplants. I would have tossed and turned in an effort to at least make my Grand Admiral's sleep uneasy, but that was even worse. How did people ever stand it? I'd look like hell warmed over in the morning which was only appropriate, but I also felt the urge rising to pay back with interest. My sleep and food were not to be messed with.

"Oh, I hate you," I whispered in the general direction of Thrawn. "You and your impossible plans that work like nothing you've ever seen." I let out a long breath and wished I could fault him for being a perfect strategist with his focus on the results. "I really do hate you." But there was no vitriol in it.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	184. 183

**Author's note:**

I want to thank the reviewers that did not log in this way. Your comments are much appreciated.

* * *

One-Hundred And Eighty Three

The fake bruises worked like a spell. Though they did turn breakfast into another very sad occasion that had me mostly staring at the food mournfully again. We might have slipped anything past Krennel, but Isard was watching from hooded hawk-eyes and without the constant reminders of the dermaplants, I would have been found out within a minute. So I grumbled internally and made sure the rest of my body language matched that of a women beat into submission.

It took some doing still, but with Thrawn not hell-bent on keeping me around any longer, Krennel and I managed to slip away in the afternoon. I allowed the Prince-Admiral to take my arm despite the constant buzzing that caused and also managed to show the 'pain' only when the door had closed behind us. I rubbed my arm which only increased the angry buzzing, flinched and cursed silently. Then I threw a suffering glance at him.

This prompted Krennel into such a bad imitation of a mother hen that I had to bury my face in my hands to hide my amusement. It was not that he didn't care. I am sure that in his own way he did feel rather protective of me and my silent suffering affected him, if not all in directions one might have hoped. But this was irrelevant. He acted like he had sprung from a silent movie, all exaggerated demonstration and not used to normal speech.

My appropriately stricken and sad face was a masterpiece of acting I would not have managed without the constant restraints of the lor'kina in the past months. That pain the ass had certainly paid off now. Slumping into a chair, I sighed. "I just wished it was over already."

Krennel started to pat my shoulder, but stopped immediately as I flinched again with a sound of surprised pain. He paced for a while before sitting down opposite of me. "Soon, my dear, soon." He took my hands after short scrutiny, deciding their were safe territory to touch without hurting me. "The Grand Admiral is walking straight into his doom. Trust me."

I smiled and squeezed his hands. "I am scared," I confessed. "Really, really scared."

"I am sorry. I really wished-" he broke off and for a moment we just sat there, staring at our intertwined hands.

"I'll just have to endure," I said finally and put up a very bad façade of feigned strength. "As soon as the Emperor-" I broke off as he almost crushed my hands in his. He probably didn't even notice much any more with his prosthetic hand doing all the work.

"You should not know about that," he sounded alarmed. "Neither should Thrawn. The Emperor's return is still a big secret."

"Oh, he knows," I replied darkly. "Trust me, Thrawn knows everything."

"No, he does not." Krennel's confidence was meant to reassure himself as much as me. "I have slipped my plans and my communications even past Isard. Thrawn knows nothing."

I let hope glimmer in my eyes. "Then let us keep it that way. Let them both burn!"

"I will save you." He was so earnest it was so cute.

"Thank you." My smile was real. It felt good to know somebody out there wanted to save you from a horrible fate, even if it wasn't quite sure how un-horrible the new fate would be. His eyes lingered on my barely visible bruises way too much.

"Not much longer." Deciding my lips were probably safe territory as well, he leant forwards, placing a soft kiss on them.

When I tried to return the affection, my whole jaw began to tingle ferociously and I let out a very true sigh of exasperation. When I opened my eyes again, I smiled at the Prince-Admiral encouragingly anyway.

"You will never have to worry about anything again at my side."

With this irresistible prospect, I began to tell him everything about Thrawn's plans. In great detail and ticking off a list in my head that was as long as it was false. I tried not to feel too sorry for the man whom I deceived so thoroughly, thinking of all the lives he had carelessly taken and would still take given the chance. The smaller evil, I told myself, the smaller evil. And that was generally what my life had boiled down to.

Everything could have proceeded nicely from then on. I had done my job and forwarded all the information Krennel was supposed to work with and I did not doubt that Thrawn had managed the same with Isard. What information he had gained in return would probably stay his secret. But Isard was not satisfied with that. She effected a situation in which she could conveniently intercept me for a little clarifying one-on-one.

"You are playing a dangerous game, Ms Morrison," she told me in the stark emptiness of the corridors I had escaped to with Krennel. "And you are not playing it very well."

"Oh. Really?" I did not know what to say. No word on earth would have been safe with her.

"Krennel owes me everything and he knows it. He has never been the mastermind behind any plans; he cannot." She smiled tightly. "And you cannot match me the least."

I looked at her hard features for a moment, envying her the neat white streaks in the dark hair. She was Imperial through and through, making her destiny as she pleased. Or at least doing her best in that regards. I smiled sadly. "You are right, Madame Director, I am nothing like you."

This was probably not the answer she had expected. "Even if you can convince the Price-Admiral of your plans, you can never succeed. There are bigger players at the table than you."

"There always are," I replied cautiously. "But that doesn't mean you should just fold."

"Of course not." Her face exuded grim confidence. "That would make for such a boring game." She stalekd off certain to have intimidated me.

I shook off the body language and wondered when I would ever have a moment to just be me for a while. Probably never. Cursing my life I returned to the quarters. "Have politics always been so difficult?" I asked Rukh not really expecting an answer.

But the Noghri pondered the question for a moment and then shook his head as he settled on the floor. "No. Let me tell you about Stormtrail of the North."

I sat down on the bed.

"_It was at the time that Khanathitera was heavy with her second child when Moon head news that the people of the Northern Reaches wanted him dead. _

_Why should we suffer him, they asked, when he is taking the wool that should keep our children warm to make blankets for his own children in the south where the sun is warm even in the winter? Why should our children die? And this was just one of the grudges they held. Because Moon had not been mindful of them and the riches of their land adorned his chambers unnoticed._

_So the people chose Stormtrail to travel to Moon's palace as their representative. High they piled their remaining treasures on him as gifts for the unborn child that he would pass without suspicion. Many days Stormtrail travelled with this weight that pulled him heavily to the ground. When he finally reached the palace of Moon and the gifts were placed on carts to be presented to Moon and his wife, Stormtrail felt as if a great burden had been taken from him._

_From afar he saw Khanathitera beautiful in her fertility and envied her the child at her side, clad in the warm wool lacking in his home. And his heart grew heavy and hard and he promised himself to see that an end came to this and that no more children in the Northern Reaches should ever die again from the cold._

_But Moon did not ask to see the gifts for his unborn child and Stormtrail was not invited into the palace. This angered him very much. I have travelled so far, laden with riches, he thought, but there is not gratefulness or appreciation. I will make them see the error of their ways._

_When night fell, he crouched beside the walls of the palace, sending the wailing sound of the winter-flare up to the sky under Khanathitera's window. This sound disturbed Moon because those were birds of the cold north that never ventured to his warm home and he knew the scheme of his enemies was upon him._

_Khanathitera could not soothe his troubled spirit. Moon put up guards around his castle and guards around it's walls and guards around his beloved wife to keep her safe. But Khanathitera felt trapped and sent the guards away. And she sent of the man from the north who had come laden with gifts for he child, knowing that he was the source of the danger. But she did not tell Moon of this because she knew he would rage and forbid it._

"_Why have you come?" She asked Stormtrail when he was brought to her. "You came laden with presents, but your heart is laden with anger and hate."_

_But Stormtrail saw her firstdaughter dressed in the wool of his land and stared at her in silent anger._

"_You cannot hate the children," Khanathitera said, "because they are innocent and deserve only protection." And she stepped before her daughter._

"_So how can you let our children die?" Stormtrail demanded and he told her of their dead bodies in the cold. And Khanathitera's heart broke for the children of the north and her thoughts grew heavy with sadness._

"_And as all children deserve the protection of their elders, so they will honour their elders when they grow old. For this is as it has always has been and always shall be. So I shall protect the children of my people, even if it means I will not see them grow old to honour my sacrifice."_

_As he said this, Khanathitera thought of her own father and her promise and a great sadness came over her. And like this Moon found them and was enraged that Stormtrail should sadden his wife like this in her heavy time._

"_You have brought evil over my queen," he thundered and his white hair shook in anger. "What reasons can you show that I should spare your life?"_

_But Stormtrail did not retreat. "I have come to save the children of the north from the cold and it's groping hands, ripping them from the midst of their families. For this I will kill you or die." And he made ready to fight Moon in his very own home._

"_It is not what you have come for," Khanathitera reminded Stormtrail. "There is another way to fulfil your mission." And she talked long and softly to Moon who inclined his head to her._

"_I cannot let his insolence pass," said Moon in the end. "But I will take his life swift and he shall not suffer."_

"_If you promise me, that no more children will die of the cold in the Northern Reaches, I will happily lay down my life here and now," Stormtrail replied. And he bowed his head ready to die for those he loved._

_But Khanathitera stayed Moon's hand. "He is doing but what you are doing for me," she told Moon and would not let go. _

"_I cannot let his insurgency stand," Moon replied. "I cannot let him return to his people, telling how Moon was bested by the need of children for there will be no end to the petitioners."_

_But Khanathitera felt the new life inside her and could not resent Stormtrail for his actions. "Then do not let him return to tell the tale." She looked the young man before her in the eyes. "Let him return to alleviate their need, let him be the guardian of the children's safety."_

_Then Moon lowered his axe and looked at his wife for she was speaking gentle wisdom as she was want to. And he knew that he could not deny her wish to save the children. "Return to the Northern reaches then," Moon spoke and held his hand towards Stormtrail. But you cannot be with them but once a year when you will drive the horned herken and the woolly beste into their valleys so they will have food and protection from the cold. Each year in autumn you will drive the flocks into the arms of your people and they shall live happy."_

_So spoke Moon and Stormtrail bowed his head. But Khanathitera could not bear to see him so broken. So she reached out and took his heart with all it's sorrow and cast it into the sky. There is hang and slowly turned around the sky, telling his people about his quest and victory until the end of days. And when the Sad Heart nears the horizon in the late months of the year his people would know that Stormtrail was about to be reunited with his sorrow and sweep down from the mountains and bring the animals before him."_

For a long while I could not say anything. "Why are all of you stories so sad?" I wanted to know finally.

"Because they are rooted in truth," Rukh replied evenly. "And the truth is seldom a happy tale."

I sighed and had to agree. Even if it was unlikely that I would rip out Krennel's heart—not even in the most metaphorical sense, all I could hope for was a little ruffle of his ego—the idea to put your former enemies to good use rather then kill them appealed to me. I would have to trust Thrawn on making sure they could not creep up on us again and send late retaliation.

"Did he still bring the animals into the valleys each year?" I asked Rukh. "Before—before the acid rain came and destroyed the planet, I mean."

Rukh shook his head. "It has been very long since the last great herds passed through our plains. We became efficient and killed most of them or kept them at out homes as cattle."

I nodded and got up. It sounded as if the Noghri had wiped out their own Bison, only without the help of a metaphorical white man. We all eate our own devils in the end. I grabbed a pad and continued reading the Chiss novels I was still working on.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	185. 184

_**Author's note:**_

Ain't it funny how fast we fall back into our old habits...?

* * *

One-Hundred and Eighty Four

I had only managed a few pages when Thrawn returned and signalled we were ready to leave. Now this was good news. I could not wait to get rid of those blasted dermaplants. The leave-taking was less pompous and formal than the reception. I approved. There was only so much decorum I could stomach.

Additionally, the glances not shared during those goodbyes said almost more than those exchanged. I kept looking at Thrawn as if trying to find out if it was safe to look at Krennel who was busy trying to catch my eye when he was sure Isard was not looking. I shot her a defiant glance, but stared at my feet again when I felt my Grand Admiral giving me an admonishing look.

I was more than happy when the ramp closed behind us and I would have dropped in the nearest chair shedding all body language if a sudden buzz from my elbow had not reminded me of a small problem in that respect.

"Fi, to me!" I ordered.

But Thrawn intercepted the clone before he reached me. Taking the small instrument for his gloved hand he nodded towards the remaining squad. "I will handle this."

Oh. Well. Good. I think.

It really should not have been so awkward to strip down to my underwear in front of him, after all he had seen me with less. Removing the bruises on my wrists bit like a horde of vampire hamsters. I was busy rubbing them as tenderly as I could while trying to scratch the skin off with sharp fingernails. At the same time blue hands wandered slowly over my skin, removing dermaplants with sucking, plinks.

I felt much better immediately. So good actually, that I reconsidered attacking the Grand Admiral with bare hands for doing this for me. There might not have been enough time for that, though.

"I need a shower." I announced finally, running my hands over my gloriously tingle-free body.

"You will have to hurry," Thrawn replied, throwing the handful of nasty technology away. "You will be picked up shortly."

"Oh?" So much for, well whatever. This was not a pleasure cruise, even when my matutinal call did not remind me off it.

"The _Errant Venture_ needs supervision during her preparations," Thrawn explained. "And Captain Terrik has gracefully accepted you as a representative for the Empire, in rather floral language, I might add."

I pulled a face. No respite for the tired. Though imagining Booster using colourful language towards Thrawn was kinda nice.

"And where will you be going?" I wanted to know freshly soniced and wondering why I never put on a jacket when going anywhere here. All those air-conditioned environments. And I have already forgotten about it.

"Gargon."

I tried to raise a brow. The effect was non-existent. "Again?"

"The situation is almost resolved. It should be my last visit for the foreseeable future."

This didn't mean very much seeing how the foreseeable future ran into a huge bulk of Battle on Byss within the next months around which nothing could be seen. Standing next to my bags and my Grand Admiral I listened to the clanking sounds of an aritunnel attaching itself. I didn't want to go.

A few more months, I told myself. Just a few more months and all this would be over. I swallowed. All. Over. No matter how appealing a part of this was, I was also beginning to be terrified by the idea. Turning to Thrawn I buried my face in his uniform holding on tightly. I was still a little surprised to find him retuning the hug. I really, really, should get used to this. It's not as if it was a bad thing.

The clanking stopped and I was gently pried off the white uniform.

"I will see you in a few days."

The blast doors hissed open and I took my leave. This would be so much fun. Booster Terrik. I couldn't wait. But I'd have Zeth and Rukh with me so all would be fine. I just had to believe it.

There was also a certain routine to things now. You got greeted, escorted to your rooms, there was dinner, sleep and then work began. I wondered what happened if you had the bad manners to show up at midday. Probably some kind of High Noon rip-off.

The following days were spent running around the ship, looking interested and competent, while leaving all of the actual work to Zeth. I was not used to this and found it rather difficult not trying to understand everything.

Still I was kept up to date with a constant stream of reports that showed the overall progress nicely and made me wonder why I was there anyway because representing was boring as hell. Somebody had to do it, I agreed, but couldn't that be somebody else? Zeth was very good at this, why not leave him to it?

"Because nobody trusts anybody else as much as everybody else trusts you in this operation," Zeth explained tiredly.

I was about to ask 'why' but thought better of it. Unfortunately, he was right and I had brought about this situation with open eyes. In a way I was glad to leave again. I felt as if all this responsibility was getting a bit much. How did people stand it? I would have to ask Thrawn one day.

Zeth accompanied me to the _Liberty_ and then took his rather unexpected leave. "I'll stay."

"But I will miss you."

"But I will return."

"But -. Okay." With a sigh I just accepted this as another of those facts I suddenly stumbled over. "You be careful." What was my Admiralship even thinking, leaving Zeth here with not even a bodyguard.

"So," I asked Rukh as the _Liberty_ was gently placed in space starboard of the _Errant Venture_, "Where are we going now?"

"Bastion."

"I thought it didn't exist?" I tried to raise a brow.

"In the which case Grand Admiral Thrawn didn't just find, but create it," came the deadpan reply.

"Can't wait to see it in either case." I punched the coordinates into the nav comp and pulled the lever. The expected starlines turned into hyperspace and I looked at the patterns for a while. How come I had already become so used to them that I didn't take the time to admire their beauty anymore?

"You are sad."

Gods curse you with a perceptive bodyguard. Maybe I should at least have tried to leave him with Zeth. "Yeah."

"May I ask why?"

Always so polite, except when it would not be helping any. I sighed. "You may. And I will even answer you. Everything seems to be slipping away so fast. I can't follow."

"But you are here," he objected.

"Yes, here I am," I sighed. "With a pretty good idea of what I am doing, which doesn't make it any better." Neither would moping. There had to be a way out of this. I went to the galley for tea. Having your own ship had the advantage of at least being stocked with a sad minimum of you base desires. That included tea. It was not very good, but it would have to do.

And as the tea was brewing and idea was coalescing in my head. "Let me tell you a story, Rukh," I said.

He did not reply immediately. I did not know if there was any procedure to get consent for extended story telling. I hope there wasn't. This would be—wonderful.

"It is a story about good and evil and the truths in the hearts and souls of men," I said.

He looked at me for a moment, unmoving. "I will listen."

It was not a concession, it was regard. Instead of punching the air with victory, I lunged at the tea I had prepared just in case, pushing one cup on Rukh before he could refuse and curling up in my seat with another. From all the myths and legends I knew it was the only I was sure I'd get together with some kind of accuracy. I might mangle names and places, but I could tell it. And there was enough truth in it for a lifetime or two.

And I knew exactly how to start. I felt a smile grow on my lips as I sipped on my tea and leaned back. "When Mister Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly celebrate his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence..."

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	186. 185

One-Hundred and Eighty Five

Bastion turned out to be nothing but Sartinaynian. I recognised the palace and storehouses from above immediately. This meant Sarreti again which was possibly a nice change. Though talking to him had a similar appeal as walking a high wire under current the prospect caused some excitement in me. Probably because no wiring up of my body would be required to exchange verbal sparring with him.

Still, I had to take the possibility into consideration that I was becoming an adrenaline addict. Life was all very nice, but if it wasn't in a position to kill me, Thrawn or overthrow the Empire it was also a little – dull. This was not going to end well. Though I was too old to die young already. Though – taking GFFA age scope as measure, I actually might not be too old yet.

As I went down the ramp, I was greeted by the lonely figure of Sarreti. Well, he might have seemed lonely, but well-placed guards throughout the hangar made him look a lot more vulnerable than he really was.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Liaison Morrison," he greeted me with a smile.

"It has not been humble the last time I was here," I replied, "And I don't think you have downgraded since then."

"But I could hardly call it my own the last time you were here."

Ah. "Details, my dear Moff, details," I returned the smile.

"Important details." He offered his arm. "Though I am happy to know you approve."

What choice did I have? Not that he had to know, or didn't. "Can I see the Hanging Garden again?" I asked instead. "I really liked it. It's a shame how few plants you get to see in space."

"Of course. It is quite beautiful now with the Stylex rose bushes in full bloom. A very nice place for some romance."

I eyed him curiously. "What are you implying?"

"That you might see as much romance as trees in space," he still smiled. "And there is no official dinner planned for tonight. I am sure we can make the Grand Admiral an offer he can't refuse."

For a moment I just looked at him. "I like you. I like the way you think."

"Oh, I know the winning side when I see it."

"Then In will just be happy to have chosen the same side you did," I replied.

He only kept smiling.

The suite, how had I suddenly become one to live in suites? I didn't really know, but approved wholeheartedly, because luxury had never been something I had had problems with, more like I had problems without, most namely envy. Anyway, the rather huge suite was beautiful but empty when I arrived. So I decided that, fuck all, this was the perfect time to actually make use of my temporary private spa.

After a long hot bath with all the soap and bubbles I could get my hands of, which was an amazing lot, I felt much better. Not quite as good as when I realised the robe was self-warming, not to mention wonderfully fluffy. I snuggled up in it and flopped down on my belly on the bed to read. Journey had turned into an obnoxious mess of complicated grammar in the last few chapters and though I understood that having your life ripped apart by a demidemon was making things complicated, I did not support the approach of showcasing this in the writing style.

I was heartily practising my Chiss swearing when my Grand Admiral finally deigned to show up. I stopped swearing long enough to inform him of his plans for the evening and that he was to make no excuses or else. Then I muttered on, the unwieldy Chiss swearwords crumbling in my mouth.

"Considering the evening plans, I assume they are not the source of your swearing." He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand resting on my back, almost imperceptible through all the fluff of the robe.

"No, I replied, waving my pad around a little. "Journey is. That demidemon is driving not only the hero totally nuts."

"You should rather turn your attention to the political press," he chided softly. "You will have a lot of time for reading soon."

I turned onto my back. "You need to tell me things like that, you know." I looked up into familiar blue features. "Because I won't notice, you know. Because," I held up the pad again before dropping it completely, "I will be so hell-bent on doing whatever the last thing you wanted was, that I really, really won't notice a change of focus myself."

"I am trying to teach you independence."

"And you're making a very bad job of it." I smiled.

"At least you are already organising dinners."

"For two. On prompting by former senators." I sighed ruefully, running my fingers over the collar of his uniform. "And because the Stylex roses are in full bloom and reputedly very romantic."

"And that is an argument?" He raised a brow.

"Hmhm." I started to pull him towards me.

"And this is-"

"Ascertaining that we won't make a dent in aforementioned roses," I murmured. "I am sure Sarreti will appreciate the notion."

"Indeed-"

I managed to stop him more permanently there losing myself in some very intense red fireworks going off in his eyes.

In the end, I would not have had to worry about the roses. And I couldn't shake the feeling his Admiralship had known all along, but not said a word for his very own reasons.

Bushes they might be called, but they did not look like them. Not much anyway. Their slender green stems rose straight up like polished green darkness, carrying crowns of blossoms so heavy they drooped and made a perfectly scented bower just big enough for a table for two.

I thanked whoever was responsible for the lack enthusiasm in the GFFA to slurp raw mussels. The choice of food was excellent. Though, once again, chocolate was missing completely. I would probably just have to get used to that.

And apart from a few minor offences, all completely unintentional, stemming from my sequence of dishes, the dinner was indeed rather romantic. From a Thrawn-point-of-view.

"So I hear you approve of the new Moff of Sartinaynian we are here to inaugurate?"

So this was the reason of our visit. I did not sigh. "He's sharp; cutting edge, dangerous. But he thinks you're the winning side so any changes coming up, he'll see them coming and be prepared."

"You like him."

"He's immensely intelligent. And doesn't want to lay a hand on me as long as he can shift that duty on you." I grinned. "Yes. I like him."

"Even though he is a danger?" Thrawn was obviously going somewhere with this.

"Well," I thought for a moment, "I guess so. Though maybe I don't like him despite of that but because of it." This was a confession I had not planned on making. Even had I seen it coming.

"So you do like your life to be dangerous." Amusement sparkled in his tone and eyes.

I tried to pout and failed. "I guess, I do." I mulled this over. "And you like to make sure my life keeps being dangerous. - Thank you."

"My pleasure."

"I bet." So it was official and I was fast going down the slop of danger addictions and adrenaline junkies. Considering what lay ahead, that might not be the worst idea.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	187. 186

One-Hundred and Eighty Six

As expected the next day was crammed full of procedure. It would also end with another ball.

"So I'll have to wear a dress and heels again?" The idea wasn't one I liked overly much. Not only because I was supposed to be still showing last remains of bruises, but also high heels. I had very much gone out of practice wearing them. It would not be fun.

"Indeed." Thrawn offered no pity. "Had you had a look into your closet already, you would not worry."

Well. I made up for that immediately and was impressed by the foresight of it all. The dress covered everything and still looked rather elegant and revealing. It was of a glaring red with flowing changing shadow patterns that made it look almost translucent, not to mention on fire. I was not quite certain it was my colour, but since when did I have a say in this anyway?

"So I shall dress up, have stupid conversations with people considering me a piece of pretty, intelligent conversations with those who know better and dance. Anybody attending I like?"

"Had you read the guest list which is deposited on your pad, you would not have to ask." An absolutely gorgeous Grand Admiral planted himself before me. "Since you did not, I won't spoil the surprise."

I sighed and ran my hands over that impeccable white uniform. Thrawn caught the trespassers. "You actually do like the dancing."

I held on to his hands, smiling up at him. "You could certainly contribute to that."

"I might."

"You'd better."

"Or?"

"Or else."

"I see."

"Which is the way I like it." I dropped our hands between us. Life was good with a Grand Admiral taking the time to banter with me. "And let me tell you just how much I appreciate me being in full dress for most of this instead of well, a dress."

He offered his arm. "Don't disappoint me."

"I won't," I replied taking his arm. "I'll just embarrass you."

The ceremony was pretty much what I remembered from Deerian's inauguration. It was, thankfully, shorter with less bombast and decorum. Still, the rows upon rows of Imperials in full dress were a sight I would probably never tire of.

Deerian held a speech commending Sarreti's virtues and so did Thrawn and Sarreti was all blushing bashfulness in a perfect uniform. Had I been ten years younger... There was some small talk after the official part and I very much enjoyed talking to Deerian again.

"You look good," I told him with a smile, kissing him, against any protocol, on both cheeks.

Not minding the breach in etiquette at all he held on to my arms and returned the smile. "I do feel good," he replied. "But then you look rather well yourself."

I had to admit that my life was pretty good at the moment, ignoring the Byss situation in special and Imperial infighting in general. But he understood and our talk was mostly about the political future of the Empire, as if the military didn't even exist. And for this short moment it didn't and all was well.

Of course, this didn't last long and I had to change into the red dress. The high collar was feeling out of place with the flowing skirts and light fabric, not to mention I already knew my feet would be killing me ere the night was through. Accompanied with red gloves reaching well over my elbows, there was not an inch of skin visible below my chin. By the way everybody kept looking at me, it probably still looked good, even when I was walking next to his Admiralship.

Deciding to get over with the unpleasant part first, I made sure to spend an appropriate time on conversation with Ysanne Isard right at the beginning. It was an uncomfortable conversation circling mostly around the absence of her trusted second in command. I was glad when it was over and sure that nobody would mind if he never saw her red uniform next to my red dress ever again. The colours disagreed even more than we did.

"And I pity those who do not understand the point Grand Admiral Thrawn is making," Sarreti said moving me across the dance floor.

I did not mention that I was one of of those because, had he not pointed it out, I would not have thought of it as making a point. I had been mostly happy that urgent business kept Krennel from attending.

"I didn't know I was walking around as a point to be made."

"Oh, the sole purpose of your existence is to make a point."

"Is it now."

"It is. Because things have been rumoured about you and the Prince-Admiral, but you are here and he is not."

"He is away on important business," I objected.

"Indeed." Sarreti swayed me around gracefully. "Which begs the question why you are not."

I was, I wanted to say, but bit my tongue. "I wonder how things would have gone with him here," I said instead.

"You and everybody in attendance, my dear." He smiled mischievously. "But as things stand, no matter what happened your Grand Admiral trusts you not to – blunder in public whereas Isard..." He let the sentence trail off.

I was suddenly very grateful for Sarreti's firm grip. The dance floor seemed to have turned into very slippery ice. Not that things got any better once I was off it. But he kept his hold on me until he had safely delivered me to Deerian. I felt at home in the company of the old man and maybe he was not too averse to me lacking the usual deference shown towards a Grand Moff.

I was just beginning to feel well again, when disaster struck.

"May I?"

I froze on the spot, though I think only Deerian saw the flicker of disgusted fear in my gaze. I pulled the lor'kina around me like armour and turned slowly and hopefully gracefully.

His looks had not improved since our last encounter, though the omnipresent leer was now held in check by my position. I let my eyes wander over his uniform looking for cues as I offered my arm. "General Jaori," I smiled. "What an unexpected pleasure."

"The pleasure is all mine." He covered my hand with his. "Liaison Morrison."

"I can tell that," I replied, sending a tell-tale glances at his hand when he refrained from letting go of it again.

He took the hint and me to the dance floor.

"Life has been good to you since our last meeting, I assume?" I tried for polite conversation

"It has indeed." His clammy hands took careful possession of me. "Grand Moff Deerian has found me a position that suits me well."

"Congratulations." I was not sure if I wanted to know the details about that arrangement. "I hope you are happy."

"I am indeed," he replied. "Which is strange." And with this his need to make conversation was temporarily quenched. We drifted on through the room. "After the events at our last meeting," he finally went on, "I didn't hope to see you so forgiving."

I couldn't help smiling, if tightly. "After the events at our last meeting I hoped to never see you again alive."

For a moment he watched me as we danced in silence. "I won't apologise."

"Neither will I."

"I was wrong about one thing, though." He seemed to be picking his words carefully. "There is more to you than just a pretty face."

I managed not to object his adjective of choice. "You have come some of the way then."

"I have indeed."

"Then all is well." How did you make polite conversation with a guy you actually wanted to skin alive, or cut bits off or both?

The dance seemed to drag on forever, but Jaori was caught up, possibly fortunately, in his own head, moving me across the floor like a sleepwalker. The experience was not as unpleasant as it could have been. Had there been more conversation for example.

He was still deep in thought when the music ended and gave no sign of releasing me. This was a first. Usually any man who dragged me off for a dance, and even those who I followed willingly, had had the manners to return me to society once the music was over. Jaori might just have planned to keep his hold on me until I was pried from his cold, clammy hands.

The awkward moment dragged on and I wondered why nobody had given me any lessons in mastering this kind of situation. Maybe I'd have to stand here, the laughing stock of the Empire for the rest of the evening. But I had reckoned without my host in shining armour. He appropriated me from Jaori with a smile and fluent gesture, just as the band started the next piece.

"I wished everybody looked so happy when I accost them," Sarreti said as he waltzed me off.

"Maybe you should hire Jaori as your receptionist," I suggested.

"Maybe," he chuckled.

"But I am grateful for the intervention. I didn't know what to do." I sighed. "Nobody bothered to explain the procedure of this to me."

"Oh, you did fine, Liaison," he assured me in an amused tone. "The damsel in distress is actually expected to stay inactive and wait for one of her supporters to come to her rescue."

"Well, in that case I am just happy to be on your good side."

"I am by far not the only man who was on his way," he explained. "The amount of movement is actually rather important.

The idea of a room of Imperial nobility on the move (in full dress, too) to save me from Jaori was not one I could easily grasp. "So you were just the fastest?" I asked.

He laughed. It earned us a few looks, but since Sarreti didn't mind them, I decided to do the same.

"Only today and only on this ball am I in the position to outrank almost everybody in attendance." He smiled. "Speed had little to do with it."

The image of Sarreti pulling rank on the assembled Imperial nobility (in full dress, too!) was one that formed even more reluctantly than Imperial nobility moving on my behalf.

"Thank you anyway," I replied in the end. "Though I do find this way of ascertaining anything horrible."

"Please, Ms Morrison," he said softly, "do give the men of your species the opportunity to save the day and be a hero now and then. We like to feel useful."

"I didn't know it was my job to make you feel useful," I said, but I smiled as I said it. "But I will keep it in mind for further endeavours, It's not as if I don't need some serious saving now and then."

"And the Grand Admiral is not available for that?"

"He has a very important business to run which is called the Empire. He also expects me to save myself."

"Is that so?" I found Sarreti looking at me in search for answers I didn't want to give.

"Could you have pulled rank on him. Even today? Even just at this ball?" I asked.

The young Moff inclined his head with a tight smile.

"See." I indicated a shrug. Some questions answered themselves.

He looked as if he was about to say something but didn't. We finished the dance in companionable silence and he returned me to Deerian all Moff-ly manners.

The evening continued smoothly after that, not considering the general lack of Admiralship in my vicinity. I danced, talked and avoided Isard which was easy since she wasn't keen on meeting me again either. I greeted Baron D'Asta as was proper considering his illness and did not ask him for a dance as Seros had feared. Now that was something to put on my report card for him. Imperials offended: none.

When Jaori approached me again, I felt the change around me a long time before I saw him. (A plate full of nibbles might have contributed to that as well.) It wasn't really a commotion, more like a rustle of clothes as positions were adjusted, heads turned and subtle gestures made that put me in the centre of an invisible circle.

"I want to apologise after all."

I looked up at Jaori, and wisely didn't stuff my face with what I considered to be marinated and roast mushrooms that had just been about to end their short existence. "Why?"

"Because it is bad manners not to release one's partner at the end of a dance."

Despite my inner eye-rolling, I grinned. "I heard it caused quite a commotion."

"It did." He returned the smile and almost managed for it not to look like a greasy leer.

"That's alright then." Before I could help it my manners kicked it. "Why don't you have a seat?"

He stared at the free chair I had indicated. "I think I better not," he said finally.

Not showing my immense relieve about his decision was probably my greatest triumph of the lor'kina so far. I might even have managed to radiate disappointment.

"You may assume that you are released since the music has indeed ended, but two can play this game." I got up and took a step towards him. "What makes you think that I will release you from oaths you have sworn and promises that have been made?"

The poor man had nowhere to back away to.

"I will forgive you for your behaviour towards me, even if I cannot approve the attitude behind it. It is your right to be the person you are." I gathered all my strength and dignity. "You are who you are and as such you are valuable." I put my hands around his shoulders. "To the Empire, to Deerian – to me.

"And all I ask," I forced myself to look into his face, into his eyes, "is that you do not betray the trust we place in you." I implied three formal kisses on his cheeks, the tiny stubble of him tickling on my skin.

"Please," I added then, because he didn't look as if he'd say anything any time soon. Then I nodded at him with a smile and turned to leave. Deerian, recognising my need for an epic exit offered his arm and led me away. I felt rather accomplished, if a little mournful when I remembered the untouched nibbles that by now had probably been cleared away.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	188. 187

One-Hundred and Eighty Seven

In retrospect, I should have made more of an effort to hold on to those nibbles as they had been my last chance for any that evening. My Admiralship intercepted Deerian neatly and shipped me off to our quarters because we did have to rise and leave early. He might have told me in advance and anyway, I would have preference to just pull an all-nighter and fall asleep at the next convenient meeting. But no such luck. My unbridled grumpiness did not impress him any either.

"Time is getting short," he just said getting up, "and there are some rather important tasks you still have to accomplish."

I let myself fall back with a moan, deciding not to mention how utterly his plans sucked, as usual and as he well knew as I had told him already – repeatedly. I did not mind returning to Jaing and Terrik, but the idea of sneaking away sneakily and reputedly unexpectedly to meet Krennel with a present of goodwill. And he would believe it. I was not sure whether to laugh or cry. Instead I got up and ready to leave.

First I visited Zeth on the Errant Venture that now hung in space like a shiny Christmas decoration. I was tempted to suggest paining a holly motif on the hull. But the red had been expensive enough and I was not sure anybody but me would appreciate.

The highlight of my visit was a secret conversation with Krennel. I kept looking around nervously, and my urge to get this over with was very real. Just outside the recording field of the comm, Zeth stood making all kinds of faces in a running commentary that was unfortunately hilarious. I had to take some time to laugh, and scold him, after promising the Prince-Admiral to take the most circumspect route ever to our secret coordinates.

This very circumspect route happened to lead past Honoghr. I hadn't expected to ever see it. As far as I was concerned, the Noghri were already moving to a different place, but, as Rukh explained patiently, finding a suitable planet was difficult. Almost all planets worth living on had already a population thinking exactly the same. And most of them were not enthusiastic about the idea of having an ex-Imperial race of bred and trained assassins relocate to their neighbourhood. Not to mention the governments and interstellar governments were pains in the arse and acted like total bitches, if you dared to approach them on the subject of handing over a whole planet. I was tempted to contact Han ans ask if he would mind winning another one.

Honoghr hung in space like a greenish-brown bruise scarcely covered with clouds. As we got closer, the view did not improve. As we passed through the clouds, it did not improve. All I could see was grass, grass and more grass. It covered everything you expect to be covered with plant life and not a single bush or tree to break the monotony.

Finally a scattered handful of buildings came into view. They looked very lost in the great emptiness around them, completely hiding their real size until we were almost upon them. Those scattered houses were actually huge structures, depots, storage, big blocks of duraplast brought up with efficiency and no eye for beauty. And they were not actually scattered but set up in a logistically sensible way around a big landing platform.

"It is one of our new transfer sites," Rukh said looking down at the approaching buildings. "Goods arrive and people leave," he sounded wistful. "We do not have a new home yet, but we scatter already, looking for a brighter future in far away places. Our ancestors will not look down upon us for much longer."

"You cannot take them along?" I had wanted to say something with a bit more consolation in it, but I could think of nothing.

He shook his head. "Did Barhekh not tell you how the stars came to be?"

I shook my head.

"Then I will." He gazed out in silence. "One day."

From the sound of his voice, that was going to be another sad story. I would have to think of something to cheer him up somehow. Because life was a bundle of bollocks, but that didn't mean it was all bad.

The air of Honoghr had a stale taste to it. I inhaled deeply several times, but the multi-layered complexity of planets crawling with life of all kinds just didn't come. Probably because Honoghr was crawling mostly with fake Kholm grass and few other lifeforms. This was dispiriting.

The two Noghri approaching us were not making things any better. They were solemn and very, very silent. I guessed that working with the Empire was not high on their wish list. I left them to Rukh and tried to think happy thoughts about life and not about how they probably felt aiding and abetting the enemy. It did not work too well.

I was almost glad to meet with Krennel. Not really, though, even if the schedule did not allow for much time anyway. You never knew with some men. But instead of just one Noghri, there were suddenly three around. And it made him uneasy, even if they were supposed to be presents.

"They are Rhalek and Narakh clan Baikh'vair," I introduced them, not even expecting Krennel to remember their names. "They come from the same clan my bodyguard belongs to, so they are loyal to me."

He eyed them suspiciously. "Are you certain."

"Well, you may have noticed how the Grand Admiral," I was careful not to call him by his name around Krennel, certainly not after the staged incident, "does not have Noghri bodyguards any longer but I do."

Krennel smiled tightly, getting my drift. "Of course he won't let them near him again, and they won't work for him. But you..." He let the sentence trail off, picking up my hand. "You have quite a gift for intrigue," he finally ended, still holding on to my hand, stroking the back of it lightly.

"I should hope so," I smiled. "Otherwise I should quickly develop a gift for staying alive when jettisoned." Rukh interrupted this moment rather brusquely, motioning me to leave.

"I must go." Stating the obvious. Where was my knack for words? "But I will see you again soon. Master of your own fate and fleet." Looking up at him with admiration was fun.

He reacted accordingly, pulling me into a short hug and kiss, assuring me that nothing in the galaxy could now keep him from the throne. And thus, by default, me.

I did not mention that my butt was as much as already sitting on aforementioned throne. Instead I made happy noises until Rukh told me in no uncertain term that my absence would start being suspicious in three, two one- And we were gone again.

Of course my Admiralship did not get suspicious at all. The delay was not even mentioned as I was relayed directly to Dave. The trips to Gargon had seemingly paid off as there were some more dots blinking over the virtual Byss, one of the bigger and blinky-er than the others.

"A Super Star Destroyer," Dave said. "It gives us a distinct tactical advantage. Especially, if we add the Lusankya to the picture." He sounded more content, not to mention optimistic than ever. I had to brush up on the complements and firepower of Super Star Destroyers until I got it. This was not what I had expected.

"We can now start an attack that seems to be concentrating on space and hope to draw more of his resources from the planet before landing." A deluge of blips moved through the display and even I saw the positive effect that would have.

"We can put the extra ground troops here, here and here," I indicated, "making the assault on the shield generators more effective. Also the bids for the food and water supplies will gain credibility."

"We expect to tie down most of his ground forces around the generators and the hangars."

"The thinner we spread them the better." I turned to look at the new set up of the space blockade. "How's the state of the feint attacks?"

Dave called up more displays until I felt like I was swimming in an ocean of lights, blinking, moving and vanishing around me in unreal beauty. And what was more, in a beauty I understood and which, surprisingly, made perfect sense. Maybe the attack would not end in a total disaster after all. Maybe, just maybe I would not fuck up so badly that everything went wrong. It was a happy thought and put me in a very good mood as I returned to Thrawn.

Maybe I should have known better.

"What did you do to Jaori?"

No greeting, no nothing, and it did sound rather serious.

"Hm?" I was still confused what this was about.

"General Jaori," he repeated. "What did you do to him?"

"I talked to him," I replied. "Why?" Not to mention he had been very much around when that had happened.

"Did any of the conversation take place in a state of undress?"

"Wha-?"

I did not hit him, or punch him or anything. "Grand Admiral Thrawn," I drew myself up to my meagre full height, "whatever General Jaori is up to now, you can blame that one on yourself as you did not intervene. As for the state of undress," I furrowed my brow in fake concentration, "as far as I remember, _you_ were the only male present. Anyway, what is he up to?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just the conversion of the whole Empire into acolytes of your dignified grace."

I looked at him for a few seconds before bursting into laughter.

Thrawn didn't follow suit. "He is a fanatic," he continued.

"I am sorry." I had to gasp for air. "It's just the most unlikely thing ever. Jaori! Come on!"

"He is indeed a most unlikely ally."

I gained enough control over myself to stand upright again. "Put him to good use then. If there is any."

"Indeed, I have already thought of some." This did not come unexpected, but I was still dying to know. But of course I was not to get that information so easily, seeing how I actually wanted it. Thrawn had placed the complete information dump before that and by the time dinner arrived I had forgotten again. And there was not a great chance that I would ever remember seeing that there was a very unexpected surprise waiting for me.

Chocolate.

After all this time. I stared at it for a long while. It was actually ice cream and on a stick as well, but still – chocolate. Since I could not adequately express my feelings about this, I hoped the grin I sent Thrawn explained them well enough. His eyes were flashing anyway. Chocolate.

I was very happy for the ensuing time, though I might have concentrated solely on the ice cream at hand completely tuning out everything else. Finally, there was not the smallest bit of chocolate left I realised I was being watched—with interest.

"I think I begin to understand the appeal of it," Thrawn said in a musing tone.

I blinked repeatedly trying to focus on the here and now around me. Somehow I had managed to get chocolate over my fingers. Thrawn's scrutiny implied that probably I had my face covered with it, too. If I remembered correctly, I did have the habit of spreading the chocolate around my face liberally. Oh, bother. Ignoring the chocolate-on-fingers problem for the moment I tired to lick the wasted bits off my mouth's immediate vicinity.

"Mellanna," Thrawn reprimanded. "That is not dignified." My tongue vanished behind my teeth in record time. "Let me do that."

Ah, well. I was not sure how that was supposed to be any more dignified, but he was the Admiralship around here. Dignified went to hell anyway, when after taking my chin with one hand, it turned out that the method of removing the chocolate was very much the same—only with a different set of lips.

Ah.

Well.

He sure knew what he was doing and the words warm, soft and enticing were followed immediately with trying to get my mind out of the gutter. Not that it helped any.

"Mellanna!" Admonishing me again but at least giving me space to breathe for a second without having Admiralship-ly bits all over me. "I will not have chocolate fingerprints on my uniform."

Oh. Well. I looked at my hands behind his head. Not that I could really concentrate on them as chocolate removal had been resumed and reached the middle of my lower lip. He sure had my attention.

Something inside my head screamed for me to shut up. There was no need to think this through, was there? My inner fangirl was getting out a sledge hammer while soft adjectives of explicit connotation took over my head slowly. Really, I needed to stop thinking and just—yield, enjoy the moment.

The last thought I did allow myself before just giving in was that he had not said anything about chocolate in is hair.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	189. 188

One-Hundred and Eighty Eight

Time went by in a blur of me running around with Zeth and Rukh in tow, flying from ship to ship, trying to command men around who tended to talk back and explain – in painful detail – how good commandering was supposed to look.

Also I was completely tired and happy each time I returned to the _Chimaera_ for however short a spell. Despite my many absences, or maybe because of them, I got along with my Grand Admiral fantastically. There was always something to discuss, plans to make, plans to adjust, another detail to consider and of course corrections in grammar and lor'kina to be made. That often resulted in minor quarrels easily resolved around bed time latest.

Had I had time, I would have wondered if this was what a normal relationship should look like. But I didn't have time. So I didn't. Instead I went off again, tired and tousled, in the mornings with the _Liberty_ and my faithful companions who did not comment on my state. It was a good time. I wished it'd never end, but of course it did. Rather abruptly, too.

I was away commandering around Mandos. Or trying to while a merciless Boba Fett criticised every move I made and every word I said. He was a wise choice, I would just have flung the handle on everybody else by now. But Fett, I hated but respected him, so I listened, cursed in silence and decided to prove him very wrong about me. So far I was failing spectacularly, but then I had time. Or so I thought.

The message pulled me out of sleep one early morning. It was very short, mainly just stating the day for the attack on Byss.

I rushed into the 'fresher and threw up.

Rukh followed after giving me an appropriate time to empty my stomach. Considering there was nothing in it as yet, it took an unreasonably long amount of time, though.

"That scared?" He asked.

"Obviously." I held on to the sink with two very pale, shaking hands. My stomach was still unhappy with me. "I haven't been in any battle yet."

Rukh stared at me in silence but I just couldn't recall any real fighting I had been in since my arrival. Not for the life of me.

"You'll do fine," he assured me.

"Sure. Or I won't be alive to take the flak." Me and several hundreds to thousands of people. Better not to think about it. My stomach agreed.

Surprisingly enough, trying to coordinate about fifty groups of Mandos through battle took my mind off the subject rather nicely. By midday I had almost forgotten about it.

"You'll never make a decent commander," Fett stated.

I was too exhausted to do anything but glare at the green helmet. At least most of the Mandos had not been talking back or arguing about my orders this time. I wondered if it was safe to tell him go fuck himself in Mando. Last I knew he didn't speak it. But then, last I knew he also wasn't associated with clan Skirata.

So I just sighed, sipped my tea and stared at the stats.

"Gan group here," he tapped into the display, "wiped out but for disobeying direct orders. That's unacceptable."

To me anybody dying was unacceptable, but I'd bite off my own tongue ere telling Mr Fett that. "That's the reason I want them autonomous," I just replied. "Ends more important than means. Only to be overridden by direct orders from Grand Admiral Thrawn."

"_You_ are commanding the operation." It was an accusation and that was okay.

"Be that as it may, Thrawn will have the overview over the whole situation, including space. Even if his orders won't make sense individually, they will be vital to success. You have seen him in action."

Silence.

Maybe he had not. Or Fett was considering and not happy with the results of that. Or both.

"Do not trust him," he finally said. "Work with him if necessary, but do not trust him."

"That's what people say about you." I smiled. "Fucking good it does," I added after a moment.

"Who says it isn't good advice both times?"

I stared at the display thoughtfully. "I can't- … Fett." So close to the last fandom nickname ever slipping from my lips. "I can't. I can't live like that. I don't want to live like that. I refuse to live like that." I looked up to meet his eyes which was pretty much hit and miss with that helmet. "And yes, I'd rather die trusting than live like that."

Just like his cloned brothers, Fett managed to convey a wealth of information by his lack of reaction and subtle changes in body language.

"Gan group, though..." I reached into the display, closing my hand around their icons and slowly pulling them out. "Very capable," I said, scrutinising the miniatures of its members. "Though I think that moving Ecclissu to the Taab team in exchange for Gonder it would balance out Sab's enthusiastic approach to things better."

And so we went on until each group was a perfect little army all by itself, almost like Clone Commandos. I mentioned it to Dave who looked as if I had just deemed it necessary to say the obviously obvious. Maybe I had.

As the day of the battle drew inevitably nearer my bouts of sickness increased. I got so fed up with them that I considered simply putting a bucket beside my bunk and dare my stomach to do its worst. But that was unreasonable behaviour which could not be tolerated before such an important mission. I didn't think Palpatine would be very impressed if I threw up on his shoes and that was all I could do.

Reluctantly I decided to visit Greras instead and get something, at least for the battle itself. Being high on meds might not be the best approach to fighting, but probably still a lot better than randomly decorating people's boots with the remains of my last meal.

Greras looked at me with disapproval. "You should have come to me immediately," he admonished me. "This is not to be treated lightly." And before I could say another word he had started a phalanx of tests looking very serious indeed. Maybe I was about to die. Of something other than the attack on Byss, that was.

"Everything is fine," he finally decreed. I was about to object, because vomiting violently in the morning did not sound okay for me, when he handed me a box of shots. "I don't dare to give you anything stronger so if these don't work return to me immediately. Anyway, it shouldn't last much longer."

I stared at the shots and Greras. Nothing strong? The fuck was he thinking? I was turning into a fountain each morning and he, and he – my head ground to a stop.

Well.

Now.

How did this come unexpected? My right wandered off to rest over my belly. "Oh dear," was all I could say. But then it had been quite a while since I had gone of the pill. I must have lost track of time what with all this running around and commandering people and forgotten all about it. Because I hadn't had to bother with it since my arrival. This meant, this meant – well apart from having to fight pregnant on Byss, oh dear god have mercy.

"Ten weeks," Greras' voice broke through my thoughts. "Don't tell me you didn't notice."

I had to look at my feet then. It was not a topic I was fond of. It was actually my very own countdown to the end of the world. Curling my hand around the shots I turned to leave. "Thank you medic. I – thank you."

I returned to my quarters like a sleepwalker, putting the shots on the desk and opening the door to Thrawn's rooms. There was nobody to be found in his quarters or even the dimly lit art museum. I stood in the ring of double displays unsure of what to do next.

The longer I stood the more gloomy my thoughts became. After all this was nothing but another stage victory, wasn't it. Who could tell what his Admiralship would do now, or would stop doing now. I was nicely committed. But who was going to hold him to – well there weren't even any promises he had made he could be held against.

I returned to my own room, closed the door and curled up on my bunk. There I lay thinking glum thought until I fell asleep.

I awoke because somebody sat down on the side of my bunk.

"I wondered where you were."

Thrawn.

"I was there," I mumble, "but you were not."

"So you returned here." It was almost a question. "You didn't think to wait. That I might like to hear the news from you?"

"Have there ever been any news that I knew before you?" I ask back.

"Most likely not," he agreed.

"Well," I sighed. "We did it." Repeatedly my head supplied less than helpful. I wanted to cross my arms protectively before my belly, but the space was already occupied by Grand Admiral.

"Indeed. And the reason you hare here now...?"

"I was thinking."

"The wrong kind of thoughts, as usual."

"The unkind sort, more like," I muttered softly.

He moved and I wondered if he was resting his elbows on his knees. But when he suddenly stretched out beside me, I realised he had been taking off his boots. Propping himself up on one arm he looked at me. "Tell me about those."

"Well," I mumbled feeling rather ridiculous suddenly. "I just thought what with mission accomplished and all that, I might just offer that – uh – should you rather I'd remove myself from your quarters."

"Should I rather," he murmured, reaching out with his free hand to push a strand of my hair from my face. "What about you?" His hand wandered down my face towards my neck, the soft touch of his fingertips unravelling my thoughts. Not that he didn't know it.

"Um." I used my hand to get hold of some Grand Admiral and pull myself closer. "I rather like it there," I admitted into his rank cylinders.

He was gracious enough to drop the whole embarrassing topic at that.

And this is the reason I didn't update.


	190. 189

One-Hundred Eighty Nine

I woke up fully clothed sans boots, lying on my belly one arm hanging out of the bunk And drooling copiously. Under these conditions I could not hold it against Thrawn that he was not present anymore. Though I was not quite sure about cause and effect in this case.

Consulting my schedule I found myself facing a whole day aboard the Chimaera. Now this was a nice change. I had, and would spend most of the coming weeks cooped up on the Liberty with my gang of two, hurrying from place to place, setting things into motion and preparing several fleets and armies to work as one. Not that it looked any kind of promising right now. And Byss kept drawing nearer and nearer like a huge red mark swallowing up everything else.

I took a long shower, though the question of averse effects on impregnation were no longer of importance. Additionally, I had no idea if it affected unborn, too. It would be bad enough to walk into battle like this. Even if I did not throw up on my enemies. The shots Greras had given me worked acceptably well and turning a burning obsession into a light uneasiness.

"It actually not battle stress," I told Rukh who watched me giving myself a shot with unpracticed fumbling.

"I know."

Would I always be the last to know anything? Well, possibly. Right now I just wished I hadn't found out until, until - well after getting my sorry self shredded on Byss. Though it was now more unlikely than ever that his Admiralship would allow that to happen. I stared at the woman In the mirror who didn't have any more answers than I did.

We'd just have to make the best of it then, her and me, and that in transparent Grand Admiral of ours. I watched him from the door for a while, Coordinating the battle preparations, seeming completely at ease with everything. At least he was self-reliant and independent, two of the many traits I had wanted in a future husband.

Thinking that didn't make it any better, though. I began to walk up to him slowly, my boot making lonely thuds on the metal floor. Husband in name, and for a few more months. And then? What did he care for hearts when once possessed? And put to good use far away. Out of sight, as they said. I bit my lip briefly, because for me it didn't change anything.

"I am just so scared." Standing behind him in the doubly ring of displays with my hands on his shoulders, I felt the urge to curl up – preferably on his lap – and just wait until this was over. That was not going to happen, of course.

On the screens floor plans blinked with ETAs and force levels, the as yet empty space above the planed was dotted with numbers updating themselves constantly simulating the fleet's approach. And endless stream of data rolled through this room counting down to the inevitable. It was much too late to stop.

"So scared."

He put his hands over mine, shaking his head ever so slightly. "This is going to be the easy part, Mellanna." His voice was just audible. "The real challenge, for both of us, will come afterwards."

Who was I to object. We both had our parts carved out pretty much. And tehre was no mistaking that world peace would have been easier to achieve with me around. I'd just have to hope he didn't get delusions of grandeur again and get himself killed while trying to conquer the whole galaxy again. But I didn't want to think about that. I didn't want to think about relocating to Csilla, either. Not that there was much else left on the tableau.

"I hear you," I just replied in Chiss, adjusting my posture accordingly, even though he couldn't see it.

"I don't assume you have taken the time yet to look into the matter," he said, not taking his eyes from the displays.

I hadn't. I had been busy trying to learn how to command people and organise units and not walk into walls while doing so. My single-mindedness would always be my downfall with Thrawn, though I was certain it'd be the only thing to actually help keeping me alive through the Byss attack. But he did have a point. "So how does it work, are there any special vows or ceremonies?"

"There is nothing formal. It is much easier than that."

"Oh, good," I replied. "I am good at informal. You own me. And you know it."

He smiled tightly. "Much easier still. The day you appear in the colours of your spouse, everything is settled."

Now that was easy. And everybody could see it at once. Wow. "Any patterns who takes whose colours?" I wanted to know.

"The families negotiate it."

"So I will end up wearing your colours?"

"No," he shook his head. "You will start off wearing them." He indicated the back of the room. A suit bag hung there. I got up opening it just to find a formal Chiss tunic in it; in my size.

"Put it on."

For a second I objected the almost-order, but then shrugged it off as easily as my clothes. The trousers were rather tight, and against all odds laced at the hips. But the tunic fit perfectly. I stretched the arms from my body and turned slowly, looking down.

He inclined his head slightly and I straightened the tunic and then myself, feeling very self-conscious under his stare.

"_Toahanah__'__ein__'__ehere__'__olu__'__nawa, Syndic Mitth'raw'nuruodo_," I said on a whim, holding out my hands in the proper gesture of greeting.

"_Toahanah__'__eren__'__ekeset__'__oluma__'__nawa, Mitth'Mellanna_," he replied, almost touching his hands to mine.

"_H__ereba'k'astaner'ataheifore nok'atakethei'uthei'yata'e_." Letting my hands dance through the movements had always felt a little silly, not so now. It felt much more right than before.

_"We__ë__to'atoaye'ofalle'yata'ei." _

"Wistful?" I asked. When a long pause settled in the room.

He did not answer. "I have never been talking to myself before," he finally said.

I was pretty certain he was evading the question. But since I was the queen of evading questions, who was I to push him? So I packed up the formal tunic very carefully and got on with my day.

It was a good day, a calm day. No unexpected alarms, no running off with your boots half on, no depreciating criticisms, not the end of the world. Dave was in a good mood and so was Seros and Greras gave me some supplements seeing how my blood iron was suboptimal at beast of times and this wasn't one.

Dinner was fairly formal as I got to wear the tunic again and went through all the motions necessary to establish non-hostile, prospectively friendly contact. It ended up being very friendly, but that had to be expected. I'd be off and gone again for days in the morning. A red countdown ticked at the back of my mind and wouldn't stop. I didn't have months anymore. I barely had weeks. I managed to fall asleep anyway. For a while, anyway.

_He likes to play his games with you._

The thought pulled me from sleep and I lay with wide open eyes, wide awake wondering.

_It bothers you that it doesn't bother you_, Rukh's voice echoed in my head. But somehow it did. Oh, it was all very nice to just yield and forget about everything. I didn't have to think about anything because, let's face it, Thrawn would not overlook anything. He'd always have everything under control. I _could_ let myself fall.

It was one of those ideals of romance, was it not? But nobody had ever mentioned how scary it really was. You just gave up everything. Yes, nothing would really happen (probably), but you just let go of everything, any kind of control you ever had. Scary was just the word. You had to be strong to do this, to allow the other to to this. And if there was strength in this relationship, I was not sure it was from my side.

But strength _needed_ strength. I think I had written that in some fanfic or other and didn't I believe it to be true. And who would be that strength for him? With a sigh I rolled over to the side and looked down at the sleeping figure I couldn't see in the darkness. This made Chiss lids the number one material for blinds. But I was trying to digress again. Because that would have to be me.

Me.

I stared down into the darkness, seeing features not really visible. So, what did that mean for me. I'd have to be—strong. Hadn't I run afoul with that one before. Strong was not good for me, strong broke me, strong made me all unreliable. But it wouldn't work at all being weak.

Strong enough, I decided finally. That would suffice. I just had to be strong enough. But to do what? To go to the place where hell had frozen over. To stand my ground all on my own. I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly. I would just have to be strong enough to stand up to an entire society of blue-skinned blockheads.

But that alone would not suffice. I would also have to be—I searched for a word and couldn't find one. Finally I came up with _h'roi _which meant politically savvy, good at intrigue and manipulation but in a more positive sense. Because I would not only have to stand up to that blasted people, but also make them see things my way. Oh, I was so not qualified for that job.

So, strong enough, _h'roi_ enough and—in love. I sighed. It all came down to this in the end. Because endurance only got you so far without the proper incentive. I turned my attention back towards the blackness beside me where Thrawn was not to be seen in the darkness.

How did you fall in love, I meant really? I knew about crushes and hormones, but how did you make it work forever. _Work_ might be an important word there. And utter commitment. Giving—everything. That was what movies and novels kept saying. I made a mental list of things that fell under that kind of commitment.

Body: check.

Mind: check.

Convictions: check.

Life: check.

Come to think of it, there was not much his Admiralship had not already acquired from me.

A soft red glow shimmered over his face as he slowly opened his eyes. Maybe I should have considered the image eerie, but actually I liked it. (Aesthetics: check.)

"What are you doing?" Not even now did a sleepy slur enter into his voice.

"I am trying to fall in love."

"Why?"

"Because I have to."

"Indeed." He closed his eyes, making darkness descend again. "You also have to sleep."

I let myself be dragged down into the dark, closing my eyes against it. Maybe it was just a decision, a decision you just kept to no matter what. And wouldn't it be nice, if it really was that easy? I concentrated on the feeling of skin softly rising and falling under my cheek until I fell asleep again.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	191. 190

_**Author's Note: **_

Because I have been asked, what they were talking in Cheunh in the last chapter. It's the traditional and very, formal Chiss greeting I created. It translates into:

_1) Here and now we as one are again under these lucky circumstances._

_2) May the future repeat this lucky circumstance that unites us today_

_3) May come from peace and prosperity this meeting._

_4) As all our meetings before._

_._

* * *

_._

_._

One-Hundred and Ninety

_13 Days_

I did not do it consciously. I just couldn't stop, either. It just was, as if the fact itself was ingrained in my whole being. And I couldn't shake it off. And I couldn't blind it out. And it set me on edge. And that did not go down well with his Mandoness Mr Boba Fett. He did not handle cheekiness well. The only reason we didn't come to blows in the end was probably that I was needed whole.

"I understand your frustration about having to work with me," I said. "It's just not going to improve anything."

"Atinla'kara." He was cussing in Mando'a now. I took it as a good sign. And also one not to call him names on Mando'a, no matter how tempted I was. And tempted I was.

"Indeed." So suck it up, I added silently. But of course he didn't. And in the long run, you lost if you argued with a bucket.

.

.

_12 Days_

"I don't care what you think of it," I crossed my arms before me. "Jaing has given me command of this and so command I will. Like it or not, you will follow. Or you will leave."

I had counted the days ahead and decided that there was no long run and losing was not something I could risk. So I has spent the best of the last day arguing with the epitome of stubborn bucketness incarnate. And this was when I lost it.

"You might be a perfect one-man army, but this is a group effort. If you can't be a team player, you're out." It was as easy as that.

"Then I am out."

There was nothing left to say really. I said it anyway. "Best of luck. Always." The floor to his side was a very nice thing to look at. And contemplate failure. At least in this case. But then, what had I expected? He was a one-man-army after all. Which didn't help here. The door hissed shut. I exhaled slowly and shook my head. "Don't get yourself killed," I whispered into the emptiness. "Or us."

Jaing seemed neither surprised nor troubled. He patted me on the back and promised that everything would be alright. "With regards from a friend," he said, pushing a small parcel into my hands.

I was chewing on the uj mournfully a little later, watching the patterns of hyperspace that had somehow become the wallpaper to my life.

.

.

_11 Days_

"No, you can't come." Zeth was putting down his foot. And he did well considering it was his own brother he was talking to and that actually, he wanted him around very much. Wherever Kyp had turned up the black coveralls of the Empire and I didn't dare guessing what he was thinking when putting them on, and how his feelings looked like. Scrambled eggs was probably nothing in comparison.

Other than that, the kid looked good. He'd gained some inches and now managed to tower over me, like almost everybody else. He was still painfully thin, but didn't look as if he were to keel over any time soon. He looked more ready to make people keel over by now. I had to smile.

"Your brother is right, Kyp," I said softly. "This battle is not going to be an easy one. I wouldn't want to take anybody without a few years experience under their belt."

"But you do?" He challenged.

"I might," I conceded. "I am not sure because it 's a huge operation and I don't know the data of all the people involved. Last I counted the number was in the millions." I tried not to show how much that thought scared me, but I doubted it worked. Luke had been visiting and Kyp was a lot more in control of what he was doing.

"I want to help."

"You will be," I assured him. "In case we win, we will need you because the Jedi must return." In an improved version, naturally. "And if we lose-" I didn't have to finish that sentence.

His lips tightened. "You will not."

"We will certainly do our best."

"When will you be back?" He was asking Zeth, of course.

"I think everybody making it out of that battle will deserve some shore leave," I smiled. And I would make sure of it, too.

.

.

_10 Days_

Terrik's ship was crawling with Republic and Imperial representatives and technicians setting up camp for the great showdown. He took it with amazing composure which might have been proportional to the amount of money, prestige and safety he got out of this. Not to mention that Republican and Imperial employees both needed distraction and after work amusements. I didn't doubt for a moment that not all casinos, or all of the market had been closed down.

"Ship's running more smoothly than ever," he was pleased to report. "Of course there's all those government rats scrambling all over her, but as any disease it'll pass."

"I'm glad to hear you're not about to jettison the lot of them," I replied.

"Oh, sometimes I do." He grinned. "But then I think of all the repairs my girl has gotten for free and the nice new paint job and then I retire to my private quarters with a glass of wine of the same colour and then look at my books until I am all calmed down again."

I wished that worked for me, too, but I had been forbidden to rink alcohol. Also konot tea had been cancelled from the menu and this had not improved my mood any. Moods, I should say because I was prone to go through a great range of them. Mastering the lor'kina helped veil this fact greatly. I doubted anybody but Rukh realised how bad it sometimes was. But then I only let down my guard on the _Liberty_ any more. And today I was sad and desperate, caught between sobbing and cursing and generally blaming the Grand Admiral for the mess he got me into.

"Do you love him?" Rukh asked into the silence of exhausted feelings.

"I don't want to."

"Does that help?"

"Not at all." and I sulked for the rest of the day.

.

.

_9 Days_

Official representation business. I wondered how we even had time to squeeze things like this into our schedules. Did I look as drawn as I felt? Would anybody appreciate if I used the 'butter that has been scraped over too much bread' comparison?

"Didn't you say you wouldn't have to return for a while the last time you went?" I was tugging at my Admiralship's dress uniform more because I could than because it was necessary.

"Their decision has been made much faster than anticipated," he actually smiled at being wrong this time. "I expected them to wait for the outcome of Byss. It is what most other planets are doing."

"So they wager you win and try to get on your good side by joining the Empire before the final decision is fallen." I sighed because I didn't like seeing so clearly.

"Indeed." His hands caught mine, probably to stop them from further tugging at a uniform that fit perfectly. "And we will welcome them with open arms."

For all the signs that would be sending in all directions. It made me want to curl up into a ball again. But of course I didn't. Instead I smiled at the welcome ceremony, shook hands, bowed politely and danced with what Gargon had to show for an elite.

Their senator was to be a man with dark hair streaked with white and piercing grey eyes. His questions about the procedures of the senate were tiring and embarrassing seeing how I could not really answer them. I evaded most of them by claiming not to talk about business on occasions like this and that my adjutant would gladly send him a memo first thing in the morning. How Zeth was going to do that, I had no idea, but I could ask Arn to tell his fiancée to brief him. My, this insider network thing was difficult. At least future senator Aurren of Gargon could dance.

I went to sleep aboard the _Liberty_ that was dispatched from the _Chimaera_ as soon as it was out of sight of the planet. No time to even get out of the dress, a green-blue one this time, before leaving because time spent changing was better spent in briefings. Dave didn't even notice my strange getup.

.

.

_8 Days_

The coverage of Gargon's accedence to the Empire was all over the honolnews the next day. The take was slightly different depending on whether you had a Republic or Empire point of view, but both sides agreed that the lack of armed conflict in the wake of it was to be welcomed. I agreed. There was enough bloodshed ahead.

"So now we have taken the battle back to the stars," Rukh said looking out of the viewport.

"Why back?" I was still browsing through the coverage, critically eyeing my images that were unfortunately as all over the place as the event. In the end I decided that, though I might look like an elephant, I did at least not look pregnant.

"Ah, I remember, Barhekh did not tell you about the creation of the stars." His soft growl filled the whole cockpit. "It was shortly after Moon had arrived on Honoghr and taken the power for himself. Still, he was alone for Khanathitera was not yet born and her father a young man, new to his service."

I had shut down the displays, leaving the cockpit semi dark. The stars did give no light out in the darkness of this meeting point. I understood exactly why Luke had chosen it.

For a moment, the Noghri tore his eyes from the stars to look at me. Showing his teeth he continued, turning his head slowly back as if looking at the stars was some irresistible impulse. "Moon came to Honoghr with fire and not all yielded to his claim easily. But he was strong and ordered the world after his own fashion, elevating some and relegating others.

_And many people rose to overthrow Moon and his new Reign for they wished to return to their ways of old. For change is always feared and those who lose power will always look to regain it even generations and generations after. And thus a great army was assembled and heralds sent ahead to challenge Moon and proclaim his impending fall._

_But Moon was unafraid for he had followers loyal and strong. And he rallied them in flaming speech that they would have rushed to arms and attacked the approaching armies. And Moon laid out his plan for the battle, pouring all his wisdom and cunning into it. For he knew the lands around his castle well and would take advantage of it._

_And so the battle began and mighty deeds were done on both sides. For the days of fighting were long and many and the battle raged now this way and now that, now Moon seeming to be the winner, now his foes. And as the night fell again and he looked upon his army, beat and tired with the wounds of their valour all over them his heart filled with pride and love for them._

_And he came before them and spoke to them soft words of recreation and fiery words of victory so their hearts filled with hope and strength and their eyes shone with his reflection. And when the morning dawned, they did not wait but eagerly threw themselves back into the fray and killed their foes._

_Still many fell under the sharp blades and heavy clubs. But the light in their eyes never faded as Moon's words burnt deep within them and before the sun began his descent again, the battle was won._

_Moon looked upon the battlefield and his fallen soldiers and his heart was heavy with sadness. For they had given their life for him and he remembered them well. Down came he from his throne and walked among the dead and collected their eyes. And as night fell again, he threw them high into the sky so they could watch over his people and their kin forever more. _

_And to any who had fought in this battle and finally died was done the same honour. So the stars are scattered in the sky, many close together for they rose right after the battle, but many scattered as well, for they lived to tell the story before they took up their eternal watch._

Rukh fell silent, his eyes fixed on the starscape ahead. I followed his gaze feeling uncomfortably watched suddenly. Back to the stars, indeed.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	192. 191

One-Hundred and Ninety One

_7 Days_

By now I understood the reasons of not getting a shuttle as my transport. Shuttles were pretty and stylish, but not very convenient, especially if you tried to rendezvous with somebody who flew an X-Wing. But it did work well enough with a light freighter and a very experienced R2 unit.

I offered tea to Skywalker and he did not decline or seem surprised when Zeth and Rukh ended up with cups as well. We sat huddled in the small lounge of my ship, telling all the details that governments can't exchange. The amount of secret information passing through space would have gotten both of us court-martialled several times over.

But this was how it would work and we knew that trust was not to be expected between our respective parties. If trust was ever to work between organisations at all. Personally, I didn't believe it. Luke wanted to believe and I wanted him to be right. Not that it helped much.

The emptiness of space was no easier to bear with Luke around. It was as if we both knew what was coming and had no words to share. Maybe it was hanging so much on him in fiction and not knowing him at all now.

"And you will be alright?" he asked glancing at my stomach.

"I'll have to," I shrugged. "And it could be worse, right? It could be growing up under Palaptine's shadow." You couldn't well object to that.

.

_._

_._

_6 Days_

I floated through the morning until I bounced against the bulkhead and didn't even notice. Rukh suggested I cut the shots Greras had given me. I had to admit that I had run out of them and taken something from the ship's first aid box. At least he didn't pump out my stomach, though he looked as if he was seriously considering it.

But the day went fine, everything was shiny, even the grey slabs of duracreet I put the _Liberty_ down on to refuel. It was difficult to suppress the giggles that kept coming up. Why did the world have to be so fucking funny? This was certainly not the time and place, this was the brink of the battle. Somehow that image was hilarious. I chuckled softly to myself.

I stopped giggling when Dave sent me the latest stats for the battle. The figures were way over my head, there were just too many people. And there was a neat number at the end of the page, coldly stating how many of them would not make it out again. I was glad the connection was crappy and my image kept flickering and he could probably not see how tense I was.

It was not fair, that all those people should be dead because of me. I heard their wails following me already, haunting my sleep as I curled up and tried to shut them out. Why me, I wondered. Why me?

And how would I get around Rukh in the morning to get another of those shots from the ship's medi-kit? I didn't think anything else would ever lighten up my mood again. The morning had been fine, hadn't it?

.

_._

.

_5 Days_

Krennel called to report mission accomplished. Well, that one had been taken care of. I smiled, one of the rare true smiles lately.

"That's great news." I meant it and my smile beamed half across the galaxy.

"I will set out for you as soon as the turmoil has calmed down," he smiled back and all the miles meant nothing. "Your presents will prove to be much of an asset in that as they have already been."

"If only this works out." I let worry colour my tone. "Thrawn has scheduled an attack on Byss. He's adamant now, he won't postpone a day."

I could see Krennel's face go taut. This was not what he had signed up for. That was his Emperor Thrawn was going after, his guarantee for power. "I will come as quick as I can."

"I know you will." And I knew it would take him three days at top speed and about four if he wanted to bring all his fleet along which he would, considering the force I would be telling him about next.

"How dare he?" Krennel's face was hard and I got a glimpse of the danger he might be were he not so rash and violent. "This, I will not let pass."

And I knew he would hurry, would rush his moves and bring a shaky group of wavering loyalty to the battle. And I knew I should feel bad that I had never in my whole life tricked anybody so thoroughly as him, never wanted to and promised repeatedly I never would do anything like this. Yet here I was. Smiling. "Thank you."

.

.

.

_3 Days_

I was fitted into things. Maybe I should call it an outfit, but it felt a lot more like things. Things were attached to the jumpsuit and taken off and reshaped and attached again and my arms got tired from being held in all directions for continued periods of time. The pockets of the utility belt were filled according to the needs of the battle and I had to remember all the small changes in case my life depended on it. They very wisely did not change the position of the light saber. It was a useless thing to take, but it was a signal we would not do without.

My Grand Admiral listened to my complaints half-amused, raising a brow at some of the more vigorous re-enactments. I dropped my hands to my sides, staring at him across the displays and feeling very lonely indeed. I didn't have to, or so I thought. I could read the question rippling through Thrawn's body language. Yes, I was getting good at reading him, provided he wanted to be read.

"I am cranky," I said, slowly walking around the displays. "And the impending battle is not helping this any. I hate it. So I try not to think about it too much but-" I waved my hands vaguely.

"You're not going to fall apart on me now, are you?"

"No," I chuckled. "It's going to take a lot more by now to make me fall apart." More than him even, I realised. He might have shattered me once, but somehow I doubted it would work again. Higher priorities, greater causes, bigger pictures – I got those now. Which didn't mean I gave a damn. I smiled.

"I guess your plan did work out in the end after all." My hands played with his lapels.

"So it would seem."

I had to grin at the returned lack of any inflection. It was a game I liked. "Do you want to be smug about it?"

"I do not see any reason to be smug just because I was right and knew it."

"Yes, you always get what you want." I stared at my fingers for a while, realising that they had left a black smear on the impeccable white. Turning them over, I realised there was still remains of machine oil from the fittings on them. "I'm sorry for that.

"I think, you might have to change." I added after a moment, looking from the dark smear up to his face.

"You may be right."

"I'll help you with that." I laid my other hand on the flap of the uniform, disregarding stains altogether.

"Naturally."

I grinned, and using Thrawn as stabiliser, pushed myself up to my toes so I could brush my lips against his.

.

.

.

_2 Days _

I sat up gasping, trying to shake the shadows trailing me from sleep. My heart was trying to break though my ribs and breathing hurt. I was too suffocated to scream or cry.

I was not alone.

The faintest red glow lay over the blankets and my cold, grey skin. "Do you want light?"

I shook my head, just trying to stop being so damned sacred. Light wouldn't help. Nightmares could be just as real if you saw them. This was in my head. No, light wouldn't help.

Slowly I slipped back under the blanket, pulling it up to my nose still unable to close my eyes. I was shaking.

"I have your back."

I took me a moment to understand. Then, with a ragged sigh of relief, I turned onto my side, pulled up one leg and curled up in my favourite position to sleep. As promised, Thrawn had my back. His bulk was reassuring against my skin and one arm was placed over me and around me in a way that was purely protective. Pressing my lids shut I concentrated on the breath tickling over my cheek.

I should have been shaking in my metaphorical boots, but that was alright. Just this once, just tonight, maybe the last time ever, but it was alright.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	193. 192

One-Hundred and Ninety Two

War Council – Round Table—Council of Elrond, call it what you will.

That was what it felt like. Representatives of the free people gathered to take down the rising evil in their world. Unfortunately I had managed to grab the starring role of Frodo and not, as had always been my wish only my aspiration, that of Merry. Merry tagged along, was important at a crucial point and returned to live happily ever after. Frodo on the other hand...

I threw a glance at Rukh who stood silent guard behind me. But even he would not get the sad parallels of it yet. We had only gotten Lothlorien so far.

Unlike the book's council, the free people here agreed readily on the general approach. They spent an unreasonable amount of time quarrelling about details, though. I should have mediated, but I only wanted to bang their heads against each other again. The people seemed to understand my mood and left me alone.

Alone.

Hah!

As alone as I would ever be again. I managed not to cough up a desperate laugh.

"You will be safe," Dave softly reassured me from the side. Possibly as much of a mindreader as Rukh and Thrawn. And Luke who kept sending questioning glances my way which I carefully ignored.

I was fine. Everything was fine. I was the linchpin of an operation that boggled my mind and was to huge to even consider in its entirety and that was fine. Just set down, kill all Palpatines available and return home. Concentrate on that. Circumstantial circumstances needs be ignored at all costs.

"The independence of the units is crucial," I heard myself say. "The mission objectives are to be communicated clearly, but apart from suggestions the way to achieve them is up to them groups. The autonomy can only be overridden by a direct command by Grand Admiral Thrawn." I ignored the rising rustle. "Anybody doubting his competence as coordinating instance of the operation should just leave now."

This was not proper protocol. I looked around, seeking the eyes of all representatives. "I mean it. I hear that anybody risked the success of the operation by ignoring a direct order from the Grand Admiral, I will have their hide on the wall over my bunk."

"You'll have to excuse us for trusting you more than him." Bel Iblis polite to the last.

"Of course I do." I smiled. "But in this I do trust him more than myself. That has to be good enough for you." I didn't want to go. I didn't want to put a foot on that accursed planet and lead people into their deaths. It was unavoidable that somebody died in the process. After all it was war. So I would go. But I would not trust me. I would put my trust into more competent hands.

"I had the honour to work with some of you already," I looked at my Mandos and Terrik, "and with others I trust that we understand each other well enough for this to go smoothly." My eyes wandered over the Alliance representatives and came to rest on Luke.

"Due to excellent intel," a nod at Karrde, "and meticulous preparations," it was rather difficult to look at Dave right beside me, "I am positive we can do this. Successfully." I made a small pause, looking down at my hands on the table. "Please keep in mind," I looked up and at each of them again in turn, "that what is at stake here is much more important than the pride or dignity of any of us. I beg you not to let it get into the way of winning this battle."

This earned me murmurs of consent and a genuine smile from Luke. I tried not to think that a few hours from now I might by lying dead and cold and that so could any of them. "I am looking forward to seeing all of you again for the debriefing. May the Force be with you."

I had always wanted to say that. But I had not thought I'd have to use it for such a dreary, deadly, final, terrible, desperate situation. But that's just the way of important phrases, you had to save them for the day of the shitstorm.

The assembly started to break up, but I knew that many of them would be wanting final words with me. Finding a convenient corner I waited.

Luke was first, the 'rebels' straining to leave the stronghold of their enemy, however disaffected and disappropriated, with Ackbar and Bel Iblis in tow.

"You look so worried." His tone was wonderfully soothing if implying a lot of things he did not dare assume publicly. He'd make a wonderful Grand Master.

"I _am_ so worried," I replied with a forced smile. "This is huge; this is important; this is utterly dangerous. Yes, I am so worried."

"Will it help if I say that I did not feel your imminent death in the Force?"

I chuckled, torn between amusement and sorrow. "I'm afraid not, friend Skywalker. But I thank you."

"Don't mention it," he replied. "I know you are doing your best to save all of us from a great war, and so will we."

"I thank you and-" for a moment I hesitated but then I might be seeing him for the last time. "I trust you, Luke Skywalker. With my life and with every life in this galaxy." And then I hugged him because being about to die puts things into an interesting perspective. It did great many things to appropriate behaviour and etiquette, not to mention decorum.

He hugged me right back, holding me so tightly for a moment that I wanted to cry. But he was not my brother, not my best friend, not my anything at all.

"Do call me Luke," he said softly into my ear. "And I am." He left me shaken and on the brink of tears.

I didn't think it'd get any better as I watched Jaing approach, followed by Jusik. Trying to find a smile again I wondered if it was normal to say some kind of goodbyes that would work as final before a battle. Or was I doing this wrong? The thought of any of them dying didn't bear thinking about.

"Any famous last words?" Jaing asked.

"Don't get yourselves killed," I put a light tone into the words to support the brittle smile.

"You be careful."Jusik clapped a hand down over my shoulder. He was saying very much with his glance towards my belly and back. Fucking mind readers, all of them. Still I nodded and hugged him, feeling the cold metal of his armour against my cheek. This made it almost worth it, being about to die, that is, that I got to hug everybody. It made me feel a little better, too.

Terrik half waltzed past with a few encouraging words. But then he'd have Thrawn around to take care of the situation and any last questions he had. He needn't be very worried. Not about the battle.

I looked at the last person remaining in the room with me. Thrawn would stay on the _Errant Venture_ while I would return to the _Chimaera_ and prepare for landfall. I only hoped I didn't look half as lost as I felt. But everybody else had already left, so why the pretence? There was just us, the bodyguards, and goodbye.

I actually caught him by surprise. Almost ramming my head into his chest, holding on to him tightly as the bulkhead stopped his sudden approach. It didn't stop me and I went ahead kissing him as if it was the last time. Which it actually might.

After a while I was gently pried off, but on his features lenience won out over annoyance.

"I am still so very scared," I whispered.

"I know."

That bloody bastard. But I couldn't bear the thought of never seeing him again.

"Would it hurt you to tell me you loved me?" I demanded.

"No," he replied. "But would you believe it?"

"No," I conceded after a moment.

"I am not sure I understand your problem then."

I wanted to cling to him and never let go. So I straightened my uniform, dropped the lor'kina over myself and smiled.

He returned the smile, an appreciation of my grasp over myself. I was going places, it just wasn't places I wanted to be.

"On the other side," I whispered, holding out my hands for a completely unrelated, formal Chiss parting, "I'll see you again."

"On the other side," he guided my hands to the complicated dance of leave-taking, "we are changed but the same."

I turned away, walking to the _Liberty_ without looking back, still feeling the skin of his hands gliding slowly over mine. My steps were fast and certain. My take-off was flawless and when I arrived at the _Chimaera_, I set down without a bounce. My fingers still tingels with goodbye. Arn was waiting for me in the hangar, but then he just nodded and mumbled something about talking later and I swept off into my quarters.

The hiss of the closing door took all air out of me. Sliding to the floor with my back against it I decided to have a nice little breakdown there and then. So I did.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	194. 193

_**Author's Note:** thanks go out to the valiant few who insist on commenting. And my apologies for not updating sooner are only to them. Thank you. I am sorry._

* * *

One-Hundred and Ninety-Three

I felt like an action figure. Bits of combat armour were strapped to my jumpsuit, but at least, it was Omega-look and black. I wore black on black. I approved. Two blasters were within easy reach of my hands and my lightsaber dangled from a brand new utility belt. A tiny earpiece brought me all the important chatter and something like a small projector was glued to my forehead, looking like half a diadem, in case I needed to see anything. So this was it. I was going into war. Finally. I was going to - die.

Really, who was I fooling? War was not my thing at all, and I was far from capable, also pegnant. Still I was not afraid, everything was too unreal for that. I could see Dave and Lyk talking quietly with each other and the rest of the stormies aboard. Half the Imperial fleet was there to back us up, and Mr Redeyes himself would make sure nobody left Byss. Shuttles like this were already descending for some time, and the forces of the Republic were doing their part not far from here. Somewhere in all this chaos Jaing, Jusik and their Mandos were making their way towards the surface.

Not to mention that half the Imperial army was only around to prevent me from dying. All those wasted lives. I really didn't want to think about it. Though it was quite an incentive not to fuck up. The better I was, the less people would die. No pressure at all. And I would die down in the corridors, probably tripping down some stairs and breaking my neck, much more my style.

I let my gaze sweep over my personal platoon for the umpteenth time. White platoon, four squads, all mine, especially white squadron which was led by Fi and included Lyk. Dave had slipped up the ladder for this operation and was part of the command structure, not the troops as such. I was not the only one who felt queasy about that. How Fi and Lyk coped with being stuck with me instead of Dave was beyond me.

The movement of the troops replayed before my inner eye again and again, jerking to a sudden stop when the shuttle set down and inserted us in the well-planned movie. I only hoped the other side knew its script. I suddenly wished very urgently to be religious, so I could pray to something, anything. The Force was all very well, but rather Jedi-centric.

And then we were moving – go, go, go – the whole platoon pouring out of the shuttle into a wrecked landing pad, swiftly and surely running past small crates, holes and debris littering the ground. I listened into the overall comms, but so far there was nothing of importance to us. People died, had died, were dying, but as I said – nothing of our concern.

Biting my lip, I followed into the corridors of Byss, leaving a sky still raining troops and ships behind. Not that my platoon needed me. They immediately spread out in well-practised patterns, checking out the front, brining up the rear, two men running tail a little behind. I heard their communication like whispers over my ear. But the first wave had been thorough. There was nobody alive around, or at least not alive enough to be a danger encased in their own white tombs. I was unable to make out any differences in the armours as we hurried past. The hope that it meant only the other guys had dropped dead was tempting, but I didn't believe it for a second.

Every now and then the ground shook, reminders of the battle raging outside and above. It was also worrisome, considering we were several, a gazillion to be exact, storeys up on a bulging structure that should not be able to resist gravity. Under attack it might realise this rather suddenly. None of my many pockets contained an emergency parachute. I felt rather useless, a figurehead not figuring in any of the plans as yet. Everything went according to plans long ago laid out. Our first enemy contact was over before I could even draw my blaster. Five enemies dead, one of mine wounded, but simply moving on.

The ebb and flow of the communications ran through my head, speaking of action unseen. For being in the middle of a battle, I sure saw little of it. What had I been expecting?

_Landing platform theta three taken; vorpan squad entering main complex; red five in position, Star Destroyer Resurrector incapacitated; gold two down, ranov squad under fire; secondary defence controls acquired; first capitulation offer out_

It went on an on while we made our careful way towards the estimated position of the clone chamber. Which was downwards fortunately. Luke was feeling his way towards the clones and all signs pointed downstairs at any given time.

_Administration Tower I unstable, repeat, Administration Tower I unstable_

I wondered if my platoon would fit a freight elevator.

_Upper Citadel under lockdown_

I wondered if they were still working. My eyes skimmed over the displays. "Allied Green and Gaan squad backup vermilion platoon."

_copy that, copy that_

_first wave of fleeing rising_

There was a disable before destroy order on outgoing vessels. I felt alright about it as I let myself be hustled around some more corners and down more stairs. Freight elevators. We couldn't go the whole way-

_Fett here, Kanos gave me the slip_

I almost stumbled into Fi hearing that. The hell? "Caution all parties, Kir Kanos on the loose, repeat, Kir Kaons on the loose." So this was how it felt when your brain and mouth worked completely independently. Interesting. A flood of acknowledgements rushed through comms.

"We have located the cloning chamber," Luke reached me over a private channel adding the coordinates. I relayed them to Jaing and Jusik who'd make sure the right Mandos got hold of them. "On our way."

The route mapped out did include the desired freight elevators, which was a good thing by the distance of 2 kilometres downward. For a second I imagined elevator music in the background as we started to descend, but the giggles were easily stalled by the influx of information. Now that the battle seemed to go our way, more and more troops did acts of deadly heroism, stupid suicide and the like endangering everybody around them.

Also, we were late.

_Saviin squad working on entry point at three_

_Green Company working on entry point at eleven_

"Acknowledged." It was difficult not to tell everybody to be careful all the time, I wanted them to be. I wanted them to stay alive. But it was a given and unnecessary chatter filling up comms cost lives. I tried to remember where Luke was trying to carve an entry into the laboratories. Six, I thought. The elevator was slow as hell. I felt the unrest all around me. Not only the men surrounding me, but very real that of the building shaking around us violently sometimes. I didn't want to die. I wanted to live! I wanted – it was good that I was already standing and thus couldn't get run over for stopping suddenly – I wanted to raise my child. Now that was a new one.

Before I could mull this over, several thing happened simultaneously. The elevator stopped and we tumbled out in an orderly fashion heading straight for the cloning facilities. And something-

_breach from the inside, repeat breach fro_

- or someone broke actually out of the place we were beleaguering. And on its way, it had most likely just wiped out Saviin squad. There was only silence on their channel, not even static. I thought 'most likely because everything else might have stopped me in mid-stride and brought down the whole hurrying platoon.

"We're on it," I said before really thinking about it. The displays showed that it was right on our way, so what? Just because I had not a single Force user among my men, so what? I didn't think about it and conveniently ignored my private channels which had erupted with chatter and reprimands. So what?

I didn't want to die. But neither did anybody else. Not here, not anywhere in the galaxy. And since I was here and _responsible_, there was no reason to cash in any privilege that shouldn't even exist. "If anybody can spare some force, we'd be happy to have it." Because what else could have run from there? I made sure there was a running update on our position available.

"We're in," Luke replied, "and you wouldn't believe the amount of clones that are here."

"And most of them moving, too," Jusik cut in helpfully.

"Go get them," I whispered. We should be able to keep anybody long enough for, well for somebody else to take over holding them off until the clones were done for. I didn't like my current job description, but then I didn't have to.

We were cloding in on the breach and I was beginning to wonder if the fugitive had taken a turn somewhere, when we did run into him. Metaphorically speaking as both parties managed to stop with a good two metres between us. It was Kir Kanos, or so I assumed from his Imperial Guard getup and he was bringing a well-built but not very coordinated young man with him. From the slimy stuff covering him and doing the whole job on its own, I assumed he was one of the clones.

I counted this as an advantage because Kanos was likely wanting to get the clone out in one piece. Whereas I was standing in front of a group of men that had no qualms making as many pieces as necessary from either. Holding up both hands I stepped between the parties.

"White Squad stand by, I will take care of this," I said tightly, watching the red figure closely. The nice thing about being in the army and able to command people around is that they had to do what you told them, no questions asked. I could see that Fi was none too happy abut my idea, but then, I didn't have to kill Kanos, I just had to delay him long enough. Focus him on something.

'Divert. Distract. Destroy.' It probably looked as if I was swallowing hard, which was all the better. "I wanted you on our side, you know? With the new Empire," I told him. "Still do."

"The 'New Empire' is a lie," he spat. "The only true Empire is of Palpatine.

So much for that. Not that it changed anything. "That Empire is gone. The hope you are putting into the clone are false. He is not strong enough to bear Palpatine's mind for long. He will fail."

"And how do you know that?"

I smiled, a small, sad smile. "How long since the destruction of the second Death Star?" I wanted to know. "How come Palpatine has not returned yet? Why take so long, if you do not have to? And what would delay Palpatine? What could?"

He didn't move. Maybe all those questions had occurred to him as well. Maybe he was thinking. But then, maybe not. Because my platoon had started to move around subtly. Not that the pattern made any sense. Or so I hoped.

"You cannot win."

It was more a feeling than anything, that he focussed his eyes on me again. I was still in the middle of the free space between him and my platoon. Considering that things were about to get nasty, it was likely the worst position as most of the fire would want to pass through here.

"Neither can you." He aimed at me and I prayed fervently for the often mentioned if rarely seen in canon prowess of Imperial elite troops. I also wished to say something like 'this is where you err' but he was right. I couldn't. I could hope. But that was that. "I know," I replied instead.

Bracing myself I charged, slamming into him with full force but little effect. Predictably the world went black.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


	195. 194

One-Hundred and Ninety Four

I woke up, looking into the familiar face of Lyk. I don't know how, but he managed to scowl right through his helmet. My head was fuzzy and it hurt. I put my hand against my temple and let out a little moan.

Around me men were getting up and together, patching up gear and themselves and anything that still warranted it. Fortunately neither Kir Kanos nor the Emperor clone fell into that category. Bits of red cloak were generally around the place, scattered among other red bits I didn't identify at all, especially not the hand off to my left.

"Could have been worse, huh?" I blinked.

Lyk didn't answer. Armour clicked back into place and he offered my two pills.

"Thanks." I swallowed them without water, just happy to get something against the pain.

He got up, reached for my arm and pulled me up to my feet. I stood, feeling wobbly all over and had to concentrate for a second until I had sorted the important directions like up and down. After a few steps, it got a lot better, though.

Since this was my platoon, I got all the new information about its status displayed neatly and in detail though I would have given a lot not to know we were two down, possibly three, but one was still breathing so there was no accounting for him. Yet.

Zeth gave me a summary of all I had had missed and I listened with on ear to the progress of cleaning up land-side and not quite mopping up space-side and generally averting suicide attacks and last minute last stands and too often the desire of the other side to go down with flying colours. Most of that being white, though. And then red. There had been a joke involving a frog and a blender once. I didn't know why I suddenly considered it very funny.

On a different note we had successfully breached the cloning facilities at two points which made it three entries now.

"Master Skywalker is leading the operation in there," Zeth said in my ear. He sounded happy, probably because Kyp was currently far away from Luke and at least in that respect all was well.

"On our way," I told him surveying my men.

Fi acknowledged the order with a curt nod. The unfeeling stats listed him as walking wounded. I didn't ask, the white shell looked intact.

I had just managed to get up a nice trot when I was interrupted again. I would never get to the Palpatine clones like this. "Yep," I snapped at Zeth who was not to fault really.

"The _Lusankya_ has entered orbit," my personal turtle informed me. "It is being commanded by one rather angry Prince-Admiral who wishes to rush to your help and Palpatine's. I'd be delighted if you could inform him about his option in that respect"

Oh, this was going to be fun. "Don't let him wait then," I advised Zeth. "He might be so put out as to accidentally shoot something we still need." I wondered what people thought if you suddenly started giggling on a battlefield. But Krennel interrupted that train of thought.

"This is Prince-Admiral Krennel, commander of the _Lusankya_. I demand to speak to the director of this unheard of offence."

Well, that would be me. "Hello Prince-Admiral," I replied as un-giggly as I could. "I expected your arrival a little sooner, actually." I could almost hear him think at the other end of the comms.

"You," he finally said.

"Yes me." I would have enjoyed this a lot more, if time hadn't be so pressing. "And before you do anything rash, let me express my gratitude for your initiative and how glad I am you came to my aid." If this didn't cue him in, a sudden death by Noghri would be a real mercy. Thrawn surely had enough people planted on the ship to at least keep it out of the fighting in that case.

The living plants that had been reprogrammed to think they were Imperials popped up in my mind unbidden. Why had BlindMan never gotten around to writing their de-programming? I stopped the corners of my mouth from quirking up and the rest of me from giggling. I could almost hear their warbling noises, though it was only comm interference.

Krennel was a very apt opportunist. While I had been surfing around my own ideas he had come to a conclusion of his own. "Indeed," you could still hear him switching gears as he spoke. "How could I not come to aid you, after the history that ties us together so closely." He was skirting extremely close to death, anyway. Cute, stupid little scugger. If possible I had patted him on the head now.

"I knew I could count on you." The relief in my voice was real because now I could get on with the important stuff. "Unfortunately, I am rather stuck down here coordinating the ground forces," an exaggeration of the most daring kind, "so if you would be so kind to refer to Grand Admiral Thrawn for the needs of the space battle."

"I will." He almost signed off, but remember manners, in a way, at the last moment. "And good luck."

"Good luck to you, too," I whispered, though I knew he couldn't hear me any longer.

I found Lyk staring at me again and was ready to start blaming the feeling on the helmet. Everything seemed clearer than usual in ways that were impossible. I probably still had somewhat of a headache from my little run-in with Kanos. I counted my blessings for being still alive. Or would have if everything else around me hadn't been so damn distracting. The platoon was down definitely three now. Instead of giggles I suddenly suppressed tears. I felt slightly hysteric and wondered if that was normal. Possibly.

As we proceeded more people were visible around us, passing, lingering or plain watching. I saw no enemy face and wondered if anybody was disappointed by how little of the actual action they had seen. Not that this had made them safe or anything. I was close to apologising to them for not getting them killed

Finally we reached the breach only to find armoured people lingering around, I was tempted to call it milling around even, but they were Mandos, not millers. Trying to shake the burgeoning silliness, which seemed to be a recurring theme, I made my way to the very front, passing only a few Republic soldiers. The impromptu door was guarded by two Mandalorians. Half of Vorpan Squad, my system identified them.

"What's going on?" I demanded to know.

"It's full," the voice my system told me belonged to Stragg Kyrten told me. Three sabers, the green and the grey as well as assorted beskars. Any more and we're just in each other's way. So we keep 'em out."

I nodded.

"If you want in, I can queue you up," he continued after a short pause. "You'd be number 25 in the row." He tilted his head slightly, motioned a waiting Mandalorian in and turned back to me. 24 now."

I shook my head, looking around. Most of the lingering had turned into waiting. There was probably a queue like this at each entry. Leave it to the Mandos. Torn between tears and giggles I made my way back to my platoon, briefed them and managed it without any improper break-out of mention. Should have tried for the Kolinahr, though the long living and prospering seemed very difficult in this galaxy. My head was all over the place. I needed to concentrate. That was only logical. I felt like exploding which was definitely not. I needed to do something. Maybe I should have gotten myself queued after all.

Suddenly DV-813 approached, risen from the dead, he certainly was still listed as such. Zombie Stormtroopers. I think that had been a thing. But the way he went over directly to Lyk and Fi made me draw my own conclusions.

"DV-771," I approached him. It was certainly not a good idea to call him Sev to his face. He didn't know me and my quirky little ways that had Imperials all over the place up the walls.

Sev snapped to attention, probably more out of habit than because of my impressive commanding skills or self. "Reporting in, ma'am."

I liked him. "At ease." I didn't dare call him anything for fear it happened to be dearie or pal. I allowed myself a smile, though. "Welcome back."

His posture relaxed, as much as it ever did with clones of his calibre. Before I could run with this idea and make the usual fool out of myself, Zeth called in again. He turned into a real saving grace. "Yep?" Maybe I should mind my manners.

If Zeth noticed, he didn't mention it. "We are starting to tie up the loose end up here. Since the defeat is now obvious to everybody there seems to be a mass exodus."

I wondered why he called me.

"We cannot disable all of them."

Oh. Right. For a second I closed my eyes. I didn't like where this was leading but there was a disable order standing. Standing on my command and well. I took a deep breath. "Destroy them, then," I said flatly. Keeping the Palpatine clones contained was more important than those lives, I told myself. But somehow it didn't make me feel better. Right wasn't good. Right was just right. Who'd ha' thunk?

"Copy." The connection broke and I saw Lyk staring at me. Whatever had gotten into him.

"Didn't think you had it in you," he finally commented.

I shrugged and pressed my lips together. Nobody said it was easy and it wasn't. But what else could I have done? Endanger the whole galaxy? I am sure there was more than enough danger around already even without me adding extra bits. Nope, it was definitely time to do something against it. My fingers itched.

With my eyes on the makeshift entrance I listened to the comms trying to find something I could do. Oh, I might want to take up arms against Palpatine's clones, but I had to stay realistic. Somewhat. But what had I done, really done, in this venture? Looking at my stats so far, absolutely nothing. Being there didn't count, though there were times it was all you could do and you could get medals for it. But this was not one of those times.

Another Mandalorian went into the cloning facilities; striding forwards full of determination. I wondered what it looked like inside. It was likely I could indeed pick up arms. I fidgeted. I felt useless. I began to be annoyed. I needed to do something. What was the use of getting all pumped on adrenaline for battle and then doing nothing? I wanted to chase something and tear it into pieces.

"They're don," Kyrten said finally.

I almost jumped and launched myself at him because my head was still on the seek and destroy track. Instead in bounced, relayed the information to Zeth and followed the Mandalorian. People would want to see proof of the successful completion of the primary mission objectives. People would represent and probably resent and bitch about. The least I could do was be here then and represent and try not to bitch, though I felt that right now I'd be amazing at it.

I put my hand on the holster of my gun just in case, and with a last nod towards my men, I went in.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.


End file.
